Virtue's Sin
by LunesWraith
Summary: Takes place after Brotherhood. Ed turns into Pride!Ed, Al joins the Military, Ed joins the Seven Holy Virtues as the only Sin, and 4 years later they meet. Reviews welcome :D
1. Prologue

**I'll write more next time, just a tester i've been thinking about. I brought back Hughes, because I can, and you know he's cool, too. This part takes place after the Promised Day, and if I get enough reviews to finish, ends 4 years after the Promised Day.**

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* * *

Equivalent Exchange_

_Give what you never knew you had_

_For everything you have_

_Only you will never know_

A heavy blood-stained scene lay out before the entire investigation team, Brigadier General Mustang and his unit were present, assisting in this special case.

"Damn, what the hell happened?" Havoc muttered behind Mustang, reflecting his thoughts exactly. His hand on his chin, he said "Colonel Hughes, do you know exactly what the witness said?"

"White light, cuts, rips, and a whole lotta blood", He spoke while marking the area with cards. A blue clad officer behind flashed his camera for evidence.

But how...? Fullmetal, what the hell happened? Your body isn't even here, but you're dead.

_I gave you a piano_

_Play how you lived_

_I gave you a canvas_

_Paint how you died_

Breda, Falman, Fuery and all the others were standing uselessly around the scene, horrified at what this indicated. They refused to believe it.

Lieutenant Hawkeye moved around the area, and came to a stop by her silent and paled commanding officer. "Sir, where is Alphonse now?"

"Military dorms, he arrived from Resembool this morning." The Promised day was only weeks ago…Alphonse didn't deserve this.

Edward didn't deserve this.

His restored automail caused him grief, as did his returned alchemy. Both had returned due to his father's last sacrifice, draining his philosophers stone forever. He died and rested beside Trisha Elric. Hohenheim Elric. That's who you are.

_What matters most?_

_When can you remember?_

_How can you tell?_

_Who told you?_

Mustang saw clearly, and wished he couldn't. His restored eyesight showed him the misery and agony of Alphonse Elric, when he had told him the news earlier. He preserved as much as he could of the borrowed philosopher's stone by sacrificing something himself; his knowledge of the gate. It was as if nothing had changed, but everything had. Alphonse was back, Edward was gone, and the misery of many subordinates in grief of their little family member couldn't be ignored, even if you tried.

Blink through your tears. You aren't done yet, Mustang. A hand came down on his shoulder, Hughes peered over at his face, still gaunt and thin from his slow and painful recovery. He had been snuck from the phone box by corrupt Generals, who had planned to use his gratitude for rescuing him to their advantage. Another pawn who escaped, back to his Master Mustang like the Military dog he is.

The Brigadier looked back at his best friend, sorrow plain on his face. The kid had been like a son, but Hell would freeze over and Havoc would get a steady girlfriend before he admitted it.

* * *

Alphonse walked swiftly down the corridor, resolve burning behind his kind copper-gold eyes.

The Brigadier's head turned up, as did the occupants of the entire office, sympathy on every one.

Mustang took a breath before Alphonse punched him with his words, knocking him breathless:

"Bigadier General Mustang, please, let me join the Military."

_Everything you knew_

_Forget it._

_

* * *

_**I'll probably update this quickly. Review please though, if you have time o.o I want to write more Fullmetal alchemist fics in the future :D**_  
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	2. Major

_Chapter 1 - Major_

_"Wake up, boy_

_Come on, I'll explain if you want_

_Though you wouldn't understand now anyway"_

"Alphonse?" Winry's blue eyes couldn't understand. She stood in front of him, tears threatening to leak, once again, just like before. He hung his head. He was too ashamed, he barely had control of his own emotions. He tried to tell himself that after the emotional breakdown and nights of fitful sleep that he could face the world and his friends again, but he was barely holding up. He didn't raise his head.

"I have to, Winry". He was too ashamed to meet her eyes, he knew he continued to hurt her, something he thought would stop once he got his body back But no, he really did have to do this.

"In memory of him, Winry, I'm carrying on for him." She broke out a sob then, and raised a hand to wipe away a tear. "But you don't have to! It's not your responsibility to jump into more danger! Danger that got him That got him " She couldn't continue, either. He raised his hand to her arm to comfort her, and a slight breeze wafted through the streets of Central where they were standing, just outside HQ, but he barely felt it anymore.

_"He doesn't need to be him anymore_

_What? What else is he meant to be?_

_The missing link._

_But he's not_

_He's the opposite "_

* * *

It had been a few hours since his written exam, which he was barely allowed to sit. Some had tried to persuade him against it, but Mustang of all people had defended him. He had said he understood, and that was all. Well he does understand, I guess he knows us well, Ed would have hated that. And Mustang's approval meant the others' approval, they would support him regardless, anyhow.

The comforting smile of Hawkeye when he entered Mustang's office didn't reassure him, it just reminded him that he was in a bad enough of a situation that could beguile pity. So he kept his head down.

"Alphonse," Mustang spoke. Why did they always speak like that? It's not like it makes him feel better, it's not like being polite and sympathetic makes everything okay "I'm going to assume that you pass, which we are highly recommended not to assume, but obviously, you are a special case " He went on, going on about military admission details. But Alphonse was elsewhere, sinking down into the depths of self pity He then mused inwardly, Am I not defeating my original purpose by acting like this? He looked up at Mustang, determination fresh in his eyes, almost as strong as Edward's had been.

The Brigadier General sat, looking into those eyes he had know for so long, yet had only just met. He looked concerned. Yeah that helps, Brigadier, just like everyone else. No, there's no point being bitter, it's nobody's fault, just some stray dangerous alchemists .It comes with the job.

But before long, he had his uniform, something Ed had refused to wear, and was on Mustang's team officially, just like Ed had been. Soon after, he had his first mission to inspect an unusual use of alchemy in the East, and with nervous anticipation he followed Havoc into the train, and sat opposite. Wow, these seats are un-comfy

"So kid", Havoc said leaning back and lighting a cigarette, inspecting the remaining Elric in front of him, "You're a Major now, huh?" He smiled, really not wanting to upset him, it was way too soon, why was he forcing himself already? Alright, he had recovered from coming back from the Gate weirdly fast, but damn, didn't he want a break?

"Yeah" He replied softly, a fist tightened on each leg. Havoc leaned forward consolingly, "Why are you pushing yourself chief? You don't have to do this, to take his pla-"

"No! That's not what I'm doing! I know I'm not Ed." He looked into Havoc's eyes pleadingly, wanting him and everyone else to understand. "I'm not trying to become Ed, I know I'm not as good as him, I never could be. What I'm trying to do is make up for a fallen soldier, what one alchemist can't do, I'll do. All those people he can't help anymore, I'll help. And he helped a lot of people, Havoc, so I'm not gonna let the 'Alchemist for the People' die, no matter who that alchemist is."

Havoc was stunned. What an Elric thing to say. He grinned in front of Alphonse, something he hadn't done for a while. Maybe the kid will be alright. All he wants to do is help people, I guess he is taking his brother's place in that sense, but he's not deluded. He chuckled openly, the smoke from his cigarette billowing out of the window and up into the pink stained sunset, the direction the train charged in this grassy part of the East.

* * *

_"Wake up then,_

_Come on_

Wake up."

A hand impatiently nudged at the boy's head.

A cough of blood spurted out over the man-made bed, staining the dirty white sheets. The boy let out a pained groan, and moved his arms to get into a sitting position, but was forced down before he could try.

"Don't bother, Ameztrian, or shall I say, _Xerxesian_?" Mocking laughter shattered his mind again, send waves of pain spasms through his head down to his toes. What happened? I thought I ?

" Wh...e...A...l ?" He croaked out garbled nonsense, choking through the blood and agony. His arms moved against iron shackles. Prisoner? How? Last thing he remembered, he was Wait he was what? He couldn't think properly.

"Come on, Alkeemist, get up." That heavy Drachman accent came through again. No way, he was alive! Al! What happened? But he could have no answers, as the Drachman then hauled him up and away down a dark corridor, past dark grey iron bars. He was a prisoner, then. But at least he was alive. He had to get back to Central.

He was roughly shoved down on the cement ground, in his cell. "Your new home" The Drachman sneered, stretching out his bearded face in his grin. He regained vigour and jumped up at the bars, arms reaching out in anger at the man, "Hey! I'm not meant to be here! I'm Edward Elric, not a criminal!"

The man laughed coldly, "You are Edvard Elric, and _zat_ iz exactly why you are a criminal! Zis should give Drachma a boost in ze dispute between the two countries." He laughed again, holding his girth as walked away.

Edward clung to bars desperately. He had to get back, Alphonse needed him! He only just got his body back, he also needed to finally get things settled with Winry He had just been given new military responsibilities, a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel, not to mention he still had to get Colonel Bastard up to Fuhrer. Well, Brigadier General Bastard, whatever.

There's so much he needs to do, he can't spend time trapped in Drachma, and all that wasted time recovering too. And to think, of all people, Drachmans had saved him. So much to do Did he even want to do it? All these responsibilities, ever since his dad left, he needed to look after Alphonse, get mom back for Alphonse, join the Military for Alphonse, travel for Alphonse, look after the people just to make Alphonse proud, make him something that wasn't bitter and resentful He shook his head harshly. What was he saying? Of course he needed to, or do I just have to? This is my first opportunity But what am I meant to do?

But no, Alphonse, his little brother needed him. If nothing else, that's enough of a reason. How could he have ever thought otherwise?

_Equivalent Exchange_

_Give what you never knew you had_

_For everything you have_

_Only you will never know_

_Everything you knew_

_Forget it._

* * *

**I don't know whether I like this chapter, but I know will get better, so please bear with it! Review and tell me what you think, reviews motivate me to update faster, if you like this so far ^.^ The next chapter will probably be longer too.**


	3. North City

**Thank you to the reviewers! But I think stats is messing up pretty badly. I don't mean that in a vain way, but you can't have 3 reviews on a chapter without at least 3 hits hahaha XD Ah well thanks anywho.**

**By the way, there's some Russian in here to represent the Drachman language, because that's who I think they are most similar to. It doesn't matter if the translations are a bit off, it's the fact that it's Drachman in this story that counts ^.^ **

**Also, the part in the middle in italics is a flashback; as he thinks about it, it flashes back to it. You'll understand when you read ;)**

* * *

_Chapter 2 - North City_

Weeks later, Alphonse woke up early in the morning and turned his alarm off, and lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. _Brother never had an alarm, he just had me. It still took him ages to finally get up…Maybe he should have had an alarm instead then. _He chuckled slightly, disappointed that he could have easily been replaced by a mere clock. The his spirits lifted slightly by the fact that his brother could have, but didn't replace him. And that's an example of how he made it through his days, comparing small instances of himself to his brother, trying to feel better about it all, to be reassured that he helped him as much as he could, and the fact that he died was an awful tragedy instead of Alphonse's, terrible, naïve, careless fault…

He breathed in harshly to clear these thoughts and swung his legs off the bed to get dressed. He had to hand his report to Mustang at 8:00, a time his brother never would have-…Never mind. He moved down the corridor swiftly, smiling at the familiar soldiers he passed, when he met Falman. He was the most knowledgeable of the team in history, and one it seemed only Alphonse could tolerate, and even ask questions to, for longs periods at a time. He smiled.

"Hello Alphonse, going to report to the Brigadier?"

"Yeah, some weird stuff happened in North City, I think it's related to all the other strange mishaps we've seen, too."

"Hmm, more alchemy, huh?"

Alphonse nodded, remembering. Ever since his first ever mission with Havoc, there had been reports of random destruction caused by alchemy. There had been no sighting of the culprit as of yet, as they never get there in time and neither do the military stationed near the area.

He arrived outside the door, and knocked patiently, a big contrast between him and someone else he knows.

"Come in" came usual reply from inside, and Falman smiled at Alphonse's politeness. He did miss the other kid, too.

He greeted the other's in the office as Falman went to sit down, and went to Mustang's desk which, in his new room, wasn't sectioned off from the rest off the office and his subordinates. They were all in a one large room, something Mustang had requested.

"Morning, Major", Mustang said, leaning his head on his hands in front of him. "Do you have the report?"

"Yes, sir" He replied, laying it on the desk respectfully.

Hawkeye looked up from her work, as had the others in their curiosity on this case. Mustang picked it up to read, studying Alphonse and commenting "You know, you can loosen up Alphonse, Fullmetal was never one for formality himself". Mustang tried not to be one of those who blatantly tried to avoid that delicate subject, instead talking about it in a respectful way, to keep the memory alive. This was something Alphonse respected and was appreciative of; it was what he was doing himself.

He read through it after Alphonse responded with a shy sort of smile, not used to have a face which could portray his emotions so well.

He laid the report down after he finished reading, exhaled, and said "And nobody noticed who did this? How do they keep getting away with these kinds of destructions?"

"What got knocked down this time, boss?" Havoc said, unable to wait for the conversation to play out.

"The entire town of Banider, south-east of North City, wiped out with crude and messy alchemy." Mustang replied.

"Damn" Breda said cringing like the other's had when they heard. "Are the citizens all dead?" He asked.

Alphonse said quickly "Yeah, a lot of the town was killed or seriously injured, but there are some who survived almost unhurt. They moved to neighbouring towns or they went to North City." He frowned, clearly upset about the disaster, and glad for those who had survived.

Everyone had noticed though, and it only reminded them again that he was still a kid. They knew that about Edward too, but he was just too wise for his age, always coming out with experience and facts that were uncannily accurate. And his eyes, they were much too old for him, something they couldn't ignore, even with his tantrums and attitude. But Alphonse, he was almost the opposite; always kind, sensitive, and more naïve. He was smart too, of course, but it didn't rule his senses, dominate his mind and focus as much. As he was always the one who tried not to let it be that way, even though he could. He had adapted to people faster than Edward could, and knew how to socialize more appropriately too.

This, they could not ignore, and they couldn't help but treat him like a kid.

* * *

He was getting annoyed now. One night, a guard came to his cell again, just like before, to taunt him about Amestrian-Drachman dispute. "Ay, Ameztrian, vake up", he said, which was pointless because Ed was already awake, cross-legged, against a wall and staring into space, thinking. But on the guards arrival, his sharp golden eyes darted to the man's face, annoyed. "Hehe, they're gonna send out ze mezzenger today, let 'em know 'oo ve have." He leered at him between the grimy bars, his bushed face silhouetted against the dirty dim light swinging behind him, flickering in and out of existence.

His chest _hurt _so badly, and his mind was bringing headaches; from hitting the ground so hard, he presumed. But he still couldn't figure out what had happened. Someone, he had saw, was going a bit a crazy destroying things. It seemed so rash and crudely done, he had thought maybe they were an amateur criminal. "Idiot" he had muttered, and raised an eyebrow at the man who had caused the chaos.

_He saw him then, and stopped, seeming to recognise him. He looked determined, and clenched his fists in preparation, and ran straight at him. Ed prepared for the attack, and clapped his hands together, alchemic sparks emitting from them. He was about to slam them down to the ground, when before he could take another breath the man barely raised his hand and a bright white light blinded him. An ouroboros?_

_The fade of alchemy from his hands, the pain in his eyes from the light, and a gasp in his throat from the cement that drove through his chest. _

_The light faded, but the vision did not return, it faded, slowly. The rush was over, but his breathing did not resume normal pace, but faded, slowly. This incident was over, but his life did not return to normal, but faded, slowly._

_And landed with a crack. Then black._

Edward exhaled sharply at the memory, which had now fully returned. Now seriously, how the hell was he still alive? He bit his lip, completely ignoring the guard, who was laughing at whatever he had just said. Dammit, if he was still doubting whether he was going to return to- Amestris? Central? Where was he anyway? Drachma he assumed, but wherever he was, he wanted to know who had tried to kill him. The man had used alchemy, but he didn't use a transmutation circle. In fact, he didn't even clap his hands, he had seen that before…From the homunculi. But that was ridiculous, they were all dead, so there had to be another explanation.

"Ay! Are you even leeztning?" The man drawled. He turned his blonde head, twisting his mouth from side to side.

"Sure, pops, some crap about Drachma right?" He grinned at the mans outrage. Hah.

"Damn you, ya leetle kid!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLIN' SO 'LEETLE' HE CAN SLIP THROUGH THE CRACKS IN THE FLOOR AND DISAPPEAR?"

The man looked shocked, but not for long. Ed flung his hands through the bars in the mans moment of placidity and drew him back, slamming him against the bars. His hands had been locked in wooden stocks, but the guard was so close to the bars he only needed his hands and part of his forearm to get them past. Initially, he had just been angry at being called short, but now he saw an opportunity. With a metal grip on the mans throat, he said "Unlock my hands, or die!"

His anger at his predicament, his brother, his physical injuries and pain, his helplessness at his decision to go back or not burned in his eyes, and through his voice. Burning so hot and gold, the Drachman's courage seeped through the floor and fled, and it pushed him to fumble, then unlock the golden devil's hands.

Immediately, he clapped his hands together and broke through the bars, knocking the guard back. "Heheha!" he grinned then, anger flushed away by the alchemy and the prospect of freedom. It had only been a little while, but still! He was cramped there dammit. Damn boring, too.

Drachman voices barked through the corridor, "беглеца плен! Взять его!" _The escapee prisoner! Get him!_

Crap, time to go! He sprinted down the other way, past the cells of the other dull prisoners, and completely blasted apart the wall at the end and flew right out, and right the way down. The guards caught up to the end of the corridor and skidded to a halt, and looked down hopelessly. The leading officer ran his fingers through his hair in surprise at the kids attempt to escape.

He wasn't in sight though, as he peered over the edge of the prison edge, cliff edge and down past the crags into the mist far, far below.

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**Remember to Review people! Tell me if anyone's OOC, because that's what i'm trying to avoid. Also make your guesses at what could happen if you want ^.^**


	4. Restored Hopeless Hope

**Wow, well that's one long chapter, sorry guys :O I wanted this all in one chapter and I didn't want to split it up, but I accidently made the beginning way too long. But hey I put lines in there to make it easier, I guess ^.^ The bits that are in italics are relevant by the way! And have been all through the chapters, there not just to be all mysterious like what i've seen done before -.-**

**Thank you to all who reviewed! But out of all who read, there is waaay to many passing it up o.o Come on guys, tell me what you think. Even if you don't like it, let me know why, or give me some constructive criticism :D And if there's something you don't understand, let me know and i'll include it either in the the next chapter's text or Author's notes.**

* * *

_Chapter 3 - Restored, Hopeless Hope_

_Do you remember that?_

_You almost died_

_Well, you did in the end_

_Or he did, and you were born_

The conversation had led to a debate of how serious things were really getting, and what measure should be taken. Mustang trusted these issues to his team, rather than accept default actions from a superior. He was allowed anyway; he was Brigadier.

"This has been going on for too long, I say we check out North City to see what the survivors have to say," Breda put in.

Havoc retorted "What the hell for? There's barely any survivors even there, and the higher ups aint gonna like all of us going North just 'cause we got a personal interest.

"Well then let's visit the Drachman Peace Affairs district. It has only military motive and it gives us an excuse to be investigating around North City." Hawkeye stated simply.

"Are you crazy? We could get killed going in Drachma territory!" said Havoc.

Mustang shot back curtly, "Havoc, we're not at full blown war with Drachma. If anything, we can attend a military peace ball, or at least just ask around."

Fuery seemed to visibly sink with relief with the news of the low-scale danger, and cut in to say "Well that sounds alright, I mean we can ask them if they have any ideas about our case too."

"Good idea!" Al burst out, glad that things could go so efficiently. He was glad that they could finally do something to stop these attacks on towns and people. He hated it when small towns couldn't defend themselves against a higher force; just like Resembool in the Ishvalan War, and Lior and Youswell with the Military and the Homunculi.

Falman was thinking, and hadn't spoke. Mustang commented on it, "Well Falman what do you think?"

"Sure, sounds like an idea, we may even go check in with Briggs about it, and ask General Armstrong." Everyone groaned, Havoc said "Aww no man, that means we're gonna put with two Ar-"

"Did somebody say, Briggs!" A magnificent voice boomed into the office, deafening those within. Alphonse couldn't help but smile with nostalgia, almost imagining who would have been annoyed right now. "I must accompany you, good sirs and gentle lady, to see my dear sister once again. I could be of help, too!" He said, sparkles bouncing of Fuery's head.

"Fine, fine, let's just go." Mustang said, pulling his black coat off the back of his chair. The group made their way to the train station by car, or several military cars, reminding Al of his first official mission as a State Alchemist. Much more people to accompany him, but so much more lonely.

* * *

The train journey was long. Alphonse didn't feel like speaking, so he leant his head on his hand and stared out the window, the decreasing sight of civilisation reflected in his unique copper eyes. Strange how, even though this is a country made because of the Homunculi, it's still home to him and so many others, still as real as any other country. People are born, they live, and they die here just like all men on this planet. Someone interrupted his reverie.

"Fuhrer Grumman is actually planning to change that," Breda said. Alphonse missed what was said before.

"'Bout time, not exactly inventive are they? 'North City', 'East City', 'Central'." Havoc listed. Oh, the names in this artificial country.

"Grumman's making this country ours, I just wish I was the one doing it." Mustang said arms folded, eyes closed. "Don't worry sir, you'll get there" Hawkeye said absently, from behind a newspaper.

"What are they being renamed to?" Alphonse asked, curiosity piqued. Breda looked surprised at him intervening in conversation, but didn't miss a beat. "Oh you know, various things related to that part of the country, to get the people proud."

"Guess what East City is being name to, Alphonse?" Armstrong said gently, annoying Al just a bit at the childish way he was handling him. "What?" Fuery bit his lip from opposite Al. "Flamel City, in honor of you, your brother and your teacher. All of which helped in the defeat of the Homunculi."

Alphonse didn't respond, he had no idea how to respond to that. Usually he just counters whatever Ed says, telling him to be quiet, stop getting angry, or be more polite when yelling about something to a colleague. But there was no other, no balance to this equilibrium, so he took the initial Elric response; Anger.

"What, so they think they can make me swear allegiance to the military by referencing my family, and using brother's death as some sort of support technique to the country? Even in death he's just a dog of the Military! Used to serve the purpose of a new Fuhrer trying to promote himself to the nation."

Fuery spoke next, "No, Alphonse! it's in _respect_ to-"

"What has Teacher said about this?" He cut in. Nobody spoke. Until Mustang said "I imagine she said something that demeaned the military, and something about what she thought Fullmetal would think. Don't be so disrespectful, Alphonse. The Fuhrer acknowledges all of our participations in the fight against what was thought to be the impossible. Besides, if you really want to disassociate yourself from this act of respect to the three of you, just remember that the basis of the sign is said to be related to The Rod of Asclepius, and therefore to medical alchemy."

Alphonse remained quiet, anger gone, and became ashamed. He leaned back and continued staring out the window. Several minutes passed in awkward silence where eyes switched back and forth among the group, and Alphonse muttered, "I'm sorry". Mustang replied "That's alright" in an official manner, then was promptly challenged to a group game of cards by Havoc, in which Alphonse joined in.

* * *

When they arrived in North City, Al was itching to get out into the snow and feel it again. He bundled off the train and nearly fell flat on his face, when he was pulled back up by his collar. A jovial voice said "Woah there, little man, don't go breaking your nose now." He laughed then and Al turned into the face of Maes Hughes.

"Colonel Hughes! I didn't know you were in North City, shouldn't you be trying to keep safe? After all this is the city where most of the corrupt Generals were."

"Yeah tell me about it, kid. This is where I was recovering, it's painful, I can tell you that. And what about you?" He said, leaning down to him with a hand on each hip, like a disapproving parent. "Shouldn't you be taking more care of yourself? You should really be taking a break you know. How you holding up?" The last question was vague enough to be passed off as referring to his health.

So Alphonse responded with "I'm fine, I recovered enough alone, and I have friends to help me if I get ill again." He hoped Hughes knew the double meaning. But of course he would, he's an intelligent man, and he was included in those friends, too. The others had descended from the train already, and Mustang put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the city.

"And you know, Alphonse, this city isn't going to be North City anymore! They're renaming it to Briggs City now, so the original Briggs has to be called Fort Briggs." "Oh" Alphonse responded simply, "Yeah I had heard they were renaming". He resolved not to speak so rashly in the future.

They split off in groups, and decided to search for anyone who was from the ruined town of Banidor. After hours of nothing, they gave up and grouped back together. "Anything to report?" Mustang said to Armstrong, the last to reach the line-up. "Nothing important, sir. They all just said there was a blinding white flash, as usual, then everything was destroyed," he responded, saluting as he joined the end of the line. The Brigadier sighed, and said "We should check in with Briggs then, they might know something. This threat has been mostly seen around this northern area anyway."

"Oh great tidings of joy!" Armstrong exclaimed, breaking the line, hugging the two nearest under each arm. "Christmas is the time for family, after all!" He danced around, beside himself, while the others tried to keep in safe distance. That's right, it's almost Christmas. He had kept inside during his speedy recovery, and was too busy being busy enough to not think of…other things to notice the festivities in Central. He had been becoming pretty blind to not even notice his military family.

* * *

They made their way north, to find an escort to Briggs. Fort Briggs, now. He held himself tight against the snowy wind, he was slightly bent over and he squinted his eyes, then arrived at the sleds they would be travelling in, pulled by snowy wolves. Fuery noticed them, and sat furthest away from the front, mumbling something they couldn't hear.

After they had arrived, they went through the entrance after the message had been passed along as to who they were. They were gathered in small room allocated near the machinery for the functioning of the gate. General Armstrong and Major Miles entered the room, and strangely enough followed by Zampano, and Jerso. They greeted them, and after Armstrong had been flung through a window by his sister, she asked: "So, I'm guessing you're here to ask us about that man that's been destroying those places and people?"

"It's one man?" Alphonse piped up. Armstrong crawled back in rubbing his almost bald head.

"Just one. We've had to deal with most of the attacks, and we actually know that it's only this one man; he's been sighted here too," Miles said.

"We we're never told that," Mustang said indignantly. "You shouldn't keep everything here so classified, General, it compromises things."

"Briggs keeps Briggs business to itself!" She said, stamping her sword on the floor in front of her.

"It's not just Brigg's business if a town gets destroyed for no reason!" Alphonse shouted, forgetting to check his anger again. "Not telling us slows things down and let's this guy get away for longer!"

No one spoke, Mustang looked worriedly at Alphonse, and Hawkeye pursed her lips.

"True enough, Elric. We'll tell you what you want, and maybe, maybe we wont be so reserved in the future." She replied, actually looking awkward in her own way.

Everyone looked relieved, maybe she was going easy on him because of Ed. Alphonse sensed this too, but he was too busy being ashamed of his outburst. He had no one to hold back, so he was the one taking the initial response.

She told them "He's attacked people too, some have even died. People in the military mainly, or those with weapon power, or who have general influence with higher-ups."

"So, for political gain?" Falman said, placing a hand on his chin. "Then the possibility that he's Drachman still exists."

"Drachman? That was our guess, too." Zampano said, looking at Jerso, who spoke next.

"Maybe you should go check out Drachma, then."

"That was our next plan, anyway," Havoc said, lighting up a cigarette and leaning casually on the wall.

They were constantly moving from one place to another, a wild chase to find just one man, it seemed. One man who kills people and places for no reason. An alchemist for the people should never allow this, Edw- no, Alphonse wouldn't stand for this. So next thing, they were in Drachma, (still quite near Briggs) preparing to attend a Military Peace Ball for information.

They had been offered a place in a hotel on the outskirts of Drachma, a town named Nolinsk, although the sign on the way in had read 'Нолинск'. The hotel was of good quality, with golden adorned frames, handles, cutlery and other small pieces. Obviously the military did not seem to want war, just like their own.

When they were all ready, they met in the entrance hall of the hotel, dressed in formal attire. Hawkeye arrived last in a elegant, long, black dress with her hair still up, still managing to look businesslike. "Are we ready to go sir?" She said to Mustang, hands clutching a small silver bag in front of her. "We- ah, um yes we were just- just leaving." He managed to retain decorum, and said "you look lovely, Lieutenant. Though I would suggest you take your hair down for the occasion." She looked surprised, then annoyed, and said "Sir? This is an reconnaissance mission not some party." The group passed some secret smiles then turned, and proceeded their walk to the grand hall where the ball was held.

Alphonse was walking next to Fuery, and turned back in time to see Mustang pulling out the clip in Hawkeye's hair and giving her a dazzling smile. A smile to which she actually returned, blushing slightly. Alphonse turned back, pretending he never saw anything, a small smile on his own face. It had only been a matter of time, really.

* * *

The military meeting was dull, the people weren't interesting or anyway near his age, just like the Amestrian military. Except these people we're more prejudice against the young. They saw them as inexperienced and were never allowed any power at all, so they did not receive Alphonse well.

"But eez juzta boy!" One Colonel was exclaiming on the table he had chosen to sit at, and now was sincerely regretting it.

"Um, I know, but I passed the exam, so-"

"Zo? that means nothing! Military training should be required, not zum written _exam!_"

"Well, usually they do, with every other state alchemist they send them to boot camp after, but they didn't with me because-"

"Becauze of special treatment, I assume" said one acidic looking Drachman Sergeant with a better accent. A lower rank and he was still disrespecting him!

He fought back his newfound anger again, and said "No, this was a rushed case, so I was ready to fight in case of a confrontation with a certain criminal. Besides that, they had seen me fight many times-"

"One criminal, and the military'z raking in all ze keedz off ze street!" The fat Colonel exclaimed again. Alphonse realised the futility of the conversation, anger abated, and politely excused himself.

He sighed and made his way over to the drinks and food table, but didn't help himself to any. He leant back against it, wondering how the others were doing, he obviously couldn't obtain much information with these people. A large, tall and strong looking man was making his way past the dance floor and to the serving table to the left of Alphonse, he didn't pay much mind to him until he noticed the young girl walking along behind him, roughly about his age. Maybe she knew something, she seemed to know some Drachman officers anyway, and she couldn't exactly be prejudiced.

But before he could move and ask, the young girl's voice raised halfway through their conversation, "_yez_, but dad, thiz waztez time ven ve could be- Oh! Who are you?"

She had a heavy Drachman accent, and it made Alphonse wonder why she was speaking Amestrian at all, especially to her father. But he was startled when she cut off mid sentence to speak with him, and her dad noticed too. He turned his head slightly to regard him with beetle black eyes, under bushy black eyebrows and a full head of neatly trimmed black and grey hair. Alphonse was struck by the girl next, light violet eyes and long dark drown hair cascading down her back on her pale blue dress.

He replied, "Um, I'm Major Alphonse Elric, miss."

She giggled excitedly, and said "I love being called mizz! Oh how I love a gentleman." She gazed off dreamily, and Alphonse felt extremely awkward, feeling he just reminded her of something else. Maybe he would find someone else with information, she seemed a little bit difficult to talk to. So he tried to sidle away without her much noticing, but she stepped forward and said,

"Oh no, vait a minute, you are ze brozzer of ze Fullmetal boy?" She seemed to be an important person, by the way others who passed acted, and even her father stood in some distance, out of respect. Although, he realised, he was just the silent one who was high up in the military, and she was the esteemed daughter.

He answered "Oh, er, yeah I am, pleased to meet you, erm, miss. What's your name?" He was a nervous person again since he regained his body. His armour had been his defence, his shield against those who challenged his confidence, but that was gone now, and back was the boy who hid behind his brother, when the school bullies came to pick on the 'gold weirdoes'.

This, she commented on, "You do not have enough confidence, you are only a gentlemen because you are shy." She twisted her lips then, almost pouting at the floor, thinking.

The man came over, he said "Miss, you-" she suddenly glared up at him then, he continued "Irisa, stop talking to people about finding a husband, zey do not-" she interrupted,

"I vasn't actually, I vanted to know if zis boy knew where the alchemist brother ees."

"I'm sorry miss," Al cut in quickly, "I'm sorry but, he is dead".

But her reaction surprised him, she said, "Oh right, of course. Sorry, I forgot," and quickly moved away, after a short sad bow, throwing him a look of sincere pity and sadness. What a strange girl. She is too naïve to understand she will probably offend people in her forwardness, but she seemed to understand that eventually.

He suddenly felt maybe he needed a boost, this night was just depressing him, and frankly, maybe he wanted some time out. He turned round, a dull look on his face and went to take some dark looking Drachman alcohol bottle, when a man laid a hand on his arm. Thinking it was Havoc or one of the others, he shot his hand back immediately and backed off, waiting to explain. But it wasn't, it was a Drachman officer, a Captain, he learned from a quick look at the shoulder.

The Captain spoke first, in a good Amestrian accent: "Excuse me, young man, did you say that the Fullmetal Alchemist is dead?"

Alphonse sighed quietly. Why could no one leave his brother's name alone? Every single, god damn day someone was discussing his recent death. In the newspapers, radios, in politics and on the street. Why can't they talk about his life instead?

Just as Mustang and the others came over to him, he said "Yes, sir, I did", a melancholic tone clouding his voice.

The man looked sympathetic, and said, "Then I have surprising news, Major, but I saw him. Only yesterday, he was stumbling around bleeding and bruised, he was admitted to a hospital quickly. Looked pretty badly injured, though."

This erupted chaos among Mustang's group, not to mention the riot hat had started in Alphonse's mind.

"What? He can't be! The amount of blood…?"

"That damn kid, hahaha! Just can't die can he?"

But no, no, that can't be right, he can't just live after Alphonse was trying so hard! But what does it matter if his brother could be alive! But where, where?

"Where?" He said desperately, "where is he? Please tell me!" He clutched onto the mans uniform, pleading, almost grovelling with his eyes for answers, a note of hysteria creeping into his voice. Mustang moved in, and gripped Al's hand lightly, placing his other on his shoulder comfortingly, and moved him away, gripping him to his side slightly.

But the man replied regardless, he knew they were all waiting, "He was in this town, actually. In the only hospital, Koden hospital."

This is real. His brother was _seen, _he was alive! He's just waiting, how long had it been? Just some weeks, he couldn't have stood for it any longer.

* * *

_Yesterday - Today_

Ed regained consciousness to a tumult of pain, and let out a strangled garble through his golden locks of hair. He rolled over on the grassy ground where he lay._ I just threw myself off a cliff, h_e thought bluntly. His automail port was aching harshly, the electric signals burning through his nerves and the cold causing more agony. He needed to get it switched to another one, soon. He clambered to his feet roughly, covered in grim and dirt, looking battered and dirty with ripped up clothes adding to the effect. He stumbled along the forest path, crunching through the snow on uneven footsteps. _One minute I'm struggling to decide what whether to go back, next, I'm jumping off a freaking cliff. _He sighed, then clutched his ribs in pain, blood was obscuring his vision and he realised his breaths were laboured. Was he going to make it?

Damn it he had to, he can't die, no matter what. To live on, just like Al had told him, to learn more of Alchemy so he can save those who are helpless. But it was growing to be too much, a blurry outline of a panicked Drachman man appearing before him, and with his last reserves of strength, he said,

"Hey! Can you get me to a hospi-?" But he fainted.

* * *

Minutes, hours or days later he woke briefly in some white area, bright lights giving him a headache again. He struggled momentarily to stay awake, before the strain became overwhelming and he passed out again. When he awoke the second time, he was somewhere darker, and heavy Drachman accents floated into his senses.

"He doesn't need to be him anymore…"

"What? What else is he meant to be?"

"The missing link."

"But he's not…He's the opposite…"

"Urrghh…nn.." Ed mumbled out come incomprehensible noise, and found upon movement, that he was strapped down to some stone surface.

"Wha-t? Who-? What's going on?" He scraped the words from his throat, as his vision began to clear. A beautiful girl was sitting on the edge of the circle of stone he was on, and for some reason she had a formal blue dress, with strange pale purple eyes. The other who she was speaking with was an older man in a Drachman military uniform, with dark hair and eyes, and a sharp manner about him. He approached when he spotted he was awake, and leant over, peering over him for critical injuries. Edward noticed with a weird fascination the man's eyes were actually a much darker purple, a lot like he'd seen on that pain in the ass Sloth; looking black from a distance.

Blood was pooling around him now, and the girl stood up from the stone, looking at him with worried eyes. Edward was transfixed, there was something about her, something he would have wanted to get to know. That's if his bones weren't half broken and his body strapped down painfully by metal chains. Weren't they going to help him? No dammit they were gonna let him die! Al! Winry! Mustang! Everyone, his friends in the military, it really hit. He was never going to see them again. There was so much he needed to show Al in the world. And Mustang, damn, he had wanted to thank him too, he was grateful for everything he had done.

"Let go of me! What do you want? A hostage for Amestris?"

The man looked surprised, "Of course not, why would we take a boy hostage where he can't be of any help?"

"Well I'm not gonna be of any help dead, either!" He said, trying to appeal to the military man to save him.

But on the contrary, he replied "Oh actually, I believe you are of much more use to us dead, rather than alive, Edward Elric." The girl looked so upset, in so much distress, he wanted to help her even then. He could never think of that, the way he was at that moment, but she reminded him a bit of Winry. But different; she looked like she could defend herself, even a kindred spirit like himself. Someone who was full of life, and knew how to let the world know.

But none of that came to mind. All he could feel was his life ebbing away yet again, to see the hopelessness once more, to breathe the scent of death anew. His last thoughts couldn't be recognised, but a sound almost incoherent could be made out, "Al…", and the last he felt was the grip of a hand linked with his, before he slipped into the deep dark abyss.

* * *

**So if you made it this far, WELL DONE :O Even I can't be asked to proof read that, so tell me if there's a mistake THX. And revieeeewww, people, review! Wow i've become like the rest of those people spaming the review letters. I'm actually ashamed. Look what you've done o.o No seriously I did just annoy myself haha.**


	5. Let's Start Again

**Shorter than last time, but that's because it's Christmas. Or maybe because I was trying so hard not to make it too long that I made it too short. Oh well I got it done :D The italics is the flashback to after Al ot his body back by the way. Remember, if there's something you don't understand, tell me!**

**Thanks again to all the reviewers from last time and all times!  
**

* * *

Chapter 4 - Let's Start Again

The music played on and people still danced, but for Mustang and his group time seemed encapsulated in that moment. He kept a gentle but firm grip on Alphonse at his side, who seemed to be unsteady since hearing what the Captain had said. Everything seemed to slow down, he couldn't get a grip on things, like life and people were sliding past and he just couldn't see outside his window. His breaths came faster and shallower, and they instantly became worried. "Alphonse? Al, are you okay man?" Havoc waved a hand in his face and put his other on Al's free shoulder, concern in his eyes.

Al thought it through; If his brother was alive, then he needed his help, and no way is breaking down like this going to help anybody. He took a deep breath and stood straight, and said "I'm fine, sorry guys," his eyes averted downwards, and he continued "we have to go find him". They were ready, "of course, let's go", came the calm soothing voice of Hawkeye. He felt embarrassed then, they were watching him in case he might just burst out crying or go crazy, did they think he was that unstable? He supposed so, he felt that way to begin with, just after it happened. It just hadn't been fair.

* * *

_Everything was bright, and the air was suffocating. It all felt coarse, but it didn't matter, at least he could feel again. Ed was by his side, holding him up as he feebly made his way across the broken up clearing. He headed towards the large group of paramedics and people he recognized, but who barely recognized him, clinging to his brother like a lifeline to hold him up. He had one arm round his shoulders and his other arm was being held up at the front, Ed was covered in scratches, blood and bruises but paid no heed in consideration of his brother. Al's bones were weak, his hair long and his emotions spilling and exploding around inside him, threatening to burst and burn. _

_There was debris everywhere, signs of the recent struggle and father's death, everything, everything he and his brother had worked so hard for is over. There's no more pain, no more death or fear or shame, it was over. He broke down then and cried, leaning on brother, falling to the ground and clutching Ed and burying his head on him. He was smiling, too, he was happy, he had a body. Ed laughed then, still gripping Al's shoulders, and it was a brilliant sound, fresh in his ears like fireworks. The others had rushed over, but he was okay, and they saw that. "Come on kid, you have to get to a hospital", it was Mustang, a smile colouring even his military voice. _

_Al nodded, still smiling with tears shining on his hollowed cheeks, and turned in the face of his indestructible, grinning brother._

_Even the hospital smelled good. Well not good, but he could smell it so it was an amazing smell nevertheless. His brother was there too, on a bed next to him, in a room of their own. Their golden hair shining side by side, as Alphonse curled up next to his brother's back for warmth and comfort. He felt alone and vulnerable without armour, nothing to hide his face from speculating military men and prodding paramedics. The insipid walls screamed beautifully white, and mundane hospital sheets dripped with vivid colour in his altered state of vision. _

_Nobody came to visit, Mustang had forbade it so Al could get some privacy and Ed some peace from attention he was bound to receive. Eventually Ed was discharged, and he couldn't find a thing to dampen his spirits, not Mustang, not publicity; not even his dad, who he refused to deal with at the moment. He had his automail fixed by a screaming and hugging Winry, and took the praise from his friends and stolid Teacher. Without consent or consultation, after a visit to Alphonse, Hohenheim used his life source to give back Ed's alchemy, and he therefore wasted away forever. Crumbling down just in time to visit Trisha, shed tears of irony and fade away before an unsuspecting Pinako discovers his remains._

_Shell-shocked and angry, Ed didn't waste time complaining and raging, he threw himself onto the streets to calm down and separate himself from a frail and delicate Alphonse. So blind with rage, he hadn't noticed the stalking shadows and the luminous violet eyes tracking him in the wide street. It was dark and almost devoid of people. _

_Almost, but not quite.

* * *

_

They were arriving at the only hospital in Nolinsk, where Ed had been sighted. _Sighted, solid proof. _The receptionist checked his files, looking for that all important name. "Elric, Elric" he said, rummaging through the documents, and then, "Oh yes, here it is." He read it over quickly, and said "I'm sorry, he was discharged last night". He looked back up at them all, a bit unnerved by the large crowd who seemed to have gathered for one boy. "What? By who?" Al said automatically, fear rekindling. The receptionist peered at the paper and said "Someone by the name of Alphonse Elric."

The group froze in confusion. "That can't be right" Fuery said quietly, but loud enough, gripping Al's elbow comfortingly. "No, no way _I'm_ Alphonse Elric!" He said maniacally, almost losing control. "How can that be? Do you know what they looked like?" Breda stepped in, wanting the strange situation to be resolved and for Al to relax. The receptionist shook his head, frowning, and motioned another nearby receptionist over. He spoke something to her in Drachman, gesturing at the unit in front of him, and she said "I was working last night, what was the problem?" Her accent was worse, and she seemed to have not translated some words very well. But Al hastily answered, "Who took Edward Elric from this hospital last night?" The woman looked bemused for a minute, as if she thought he was playing some prank, and said, "well it was you. You came here late last night and told us he was your brother, and to release him right away."

No one spoke, and Al could even feel accusing eyes shooting at him every now and then, trying not to be obvious. He didn't understand, how could he have taken Ed out? Was he really going crazy? He shook his head, "No, no I didn't, there's been a mistake". The woman looked sceptically at him, and he continued "Do you know where they were going?"

"No, you- er, I mean, he just rushed off. But, well, I don't know If it was a trick of the light, or-" Falman coughed impatiently and Armstrong boomed, "Please, just tell us what it is that you saw." She bit her lip, and said "he had a tattoo on his thigh, under a black skort."

* * *

Bright purple and blue light had flashed for a while, but faded fast. Three had gathered to the round stone table, and were watching its occupant warily, for anything that had gone wrong. The pretty girl of 17 looked at the handsome boy more than one year younger than her, laying almost peacefully pale, with anticipation. The smart military man stood upright, watching with a stoic expression, casting a small glance at the other man beside him. The man had purple eyes also, and was watching the boy fixedly. No one stirred, until the blonde did, shifting and clinking the chains.

He made no noise, but opened his eyes slowly, gazing through foggy vision up at the ceiling. He looked confused, and just lay there not saying a word. The girl smiled broadly and moved in closer to him, and the sharp man spoke in Drachman, "Humility, get away, he might-" "Oh he wont do anything" she said and waved his words away. "The other shorter man said "He's pretty docile D, don't worry about it. He was dead long enough to wipe some memories, but not to give brain damage." The man nicknamed 'D' still looked concerned, and frowned, he said "Ben you don't realise the skill this boy had-" He cut him off "Yeah I do, I was the one who attacked him, I looked into his fighting technique. Although that did prove unnecessary." He smiled sadly then, watching Humility leaning over the placid boy curiously.

She said, "He's not doing anything.

Come on Pride, time to get up."

* * *

**Well I don't know what you think of that because I'm not a mind reader, so review and tell me! But I guess it's ok if you don't review actually, but I hope it was good anway.**


	6. The Last Search

_Chapter 5 - The Last Search_

Alphonse was scared. Not only did someone with the appearance of himself take Ed away, but they had no idea where they went or who that man really was. On top of that, he was getting nervous by the looks the others were passing, it seemed they did not know what to do either. They had nothing to go on, no clues to follow, no people they could find, and no possible informants. A brief disheartened walk away from the hospital, and Alphonse collapsed onto a low brick wall, sighing and looking down at his hands.

Mustang spoke, "We need to spread our search. We'll split up and-"

"What's the point? There's no hope, he's probably even dead." Alphonse interjected.

Mustang looked stunned. "Alphonse! How can you even say that? You have had the most faith in your brother's survival than anyone!"

He heard Falman make an exasperated sound and frowned. "So you had all given up anyway." It wasn't a question. "So why are you bothering now? I don't need your pity." Al felt disgusted by his words, he always does, but he just cant seem to ever stop himself. They always allow it, like they understand his pain and that his negative demeanour was just an outlet. This annoyed him even more.

But Havoc had had enough of that, "look kid, we're just trying to help. We know you're hurting, and will be for a while, but acting like this doesn't speed things up at all." Mustang gave Havoc a brief glance, and turned to gauge Al's reaction; which was non-existent. He was just staring at the floor. The Brigadier took the opportunity to regain some control over the situation.

"All right men, we'll split up and gather as much information as we can then meet up at Briggs City HQ. Fuery and Falman, check back in with Briggs for any more information, and offer our own. Havoc and Breda, go to the nearest Drachman military quarters, and ask whether their men have seen or heard anything. Armstrong and Elric, look around town, and ask what they know, I'm sure many can speak Amestrian." He exhaled as he finished, and turned to his Lieutenant, "Hawkeye, you and I will also check this town, but separately. Nobody takes well to large groups of soldiers, which is why it is necessary for us all to split up." He studied the men before him, and finished "Now move out."

"Yes, sir!" They all snapped to attention and saluted, then took off. Alphonse shifted from one foot to the other, stifling his shame yet again. Then began to blurt out another apology, "Sir, I'm sor-"

"No need Major, I understand. I'm just not used to your behaviour in the flesh, is all." He was passing it off as his own fault, there are more important matters to deal with.

Alphonse nodded respectfully, looked up at Armstrong and offered a small smile, "Let's go then". They departed.

Hawkeye watched them leave then eyed her superior, when he finally noticed she frowned, and his eyebrows rose. "Sir, I'm beginning to think this needs to end. Alphonse needs support, but don't molly coddle him."

"I've no intention Lieutenant. I know the consequences of treating them like kids at the wrong time when I lied to Edward about Hughes, and when I was rash about my reaction to his accusation about Ross ." He began walking toward another district of the town, three steps ahead of her.

She noticed the name. No Fullmetal? No Brat? No Shrimp? "Edward, sir?" She voiced.

"Yes Lieutenant." He looked up at the sky sadly, "Edward."

She closed her eyes briefly, "Of course, sir" she said softly.

* * *

Alphonse sighed, took his hand out of his pockets and sat himself on a stool at the large outdoor food stand. It reminded him of the small drinks stand in Lior, except he was the smaller one seating himself beside a larger, unrelated Major. Pushing these thoughts away, he turned and said "Sorry, what was that?" So engrossed in worry, he had missed what was said.

Armstrong took no visible reaction to it, and instead replied "I just asked if you were alright, Alphonse Elric."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm fine." Biggest lie he's ever told, and it was disturbingly easy. What does it matter? He hasn't got anybody to tell not to lie, so it's not like he's a hypocrite.

Armstrong looked concerned, but the stand seller came over and said, "you foreigners?" looking at the two, and doing a double take at Al's eyes then quickly looked away.

"Yeah", Al said, ignoring as usual the look he received.

"Well, are ya gonna buy?"

"Probably, but we're also looking for information." Eyebrows rose. "I know this sounds strange, but did you happen to see me at all last night?"

The man snorted, thinking the he was being insolent or playing some game. Wearing military uniform! "Oh sure kid, you we're a master o' disguise, 'ow will anyone tell you're an undercover super 'ero?" He snickered. Alphonse looked surprised.

"Actually, no, I'm from the Amestrian military and there has been a sighting of someone of a similar appearance to myself who happens to be a potential criminal."

"Oh sure, villain you mean, righ'? Don' worry, I'm sure there's _someone_ 'oo can save us from this migh'y villain!" He laughed loudly then, obviously this boy was a joke right? Dressed up in some uniform like a grown up! Ha!

Alphonse gritted his teeth, noting his recurring behavioural pattern and calmed himself. Then produced his watch and said "Let me introduce myself. I am Alphonse Elric: The Soul Alchemist , brother of the famous Edward Elric: The Fullmetal Alchemist." He noted he was becoming more authoritative, since there was none other who was.

The man looked stunned, but eventually picked his jaw back up to answer "I aint seen nothin' last night. There was a power outage and I couldn't see me own 'ands." Then regarded the two dubiously, "there 'aint no vil- er, I mean criminal abou' is there?"

Armstrong said "Edward Elric is missing. We are fairly certain the man responsible is in Drachma right now, and possibly nearby, the one who was in this town last night."

He added, "Power outage, you say? How interesting! Certainly some enlightenment, perhaps it is related young Elric?" He finished, turning to Al.

He nodded slowly, "Maybe they didn't want to be seen. But it's so _obvious_, why would they be so, well, _bad_ at this kind of thing?" He thought for a second, then said, "actually, in that case it could be true, the man who attacked Ed and who could be the one acting violently was also really an amateur…" He looked sullen, this meant there was a bad chance anyone else had seen him.

* * *

Fuery whimpered as the sounds of General Armstrong approaching became louder. He looked furtively at Falman, "how did you survive here?" The lady was tough; so was everyone here. They had adapted to the harsh weather like harsh Drachmans. Suitable really, to live so close to the border in the case of an invasion or attack.

Falman shrugged uncharacteristically, "You do get used to it after a while. The rumours and history are fascinating, too. That teacher of the Elrics sure caused a fuss around here some years ago." He chuckled politely.

Both saluted the incoming General and Major, alone this time. She spoke first, "Back again? What happened then?"

Falman explained what little they had learnt, and then looked to her for some reaction while Fuery looked like he was worried she would snap at them or stamp her sword again.

She responded "There is nothing much I can add to that, the fools method of information gathering is pathetic" She snorted, "perhaps you should give up: There are problems that need addressing in Ishval since the Promised Day, not including the Ishvallans in the slums, or the civil dispute concerning the renaming of districts, and many more. Yet here you are, wasting military time on a kid."

Fuery was stunned by her coldness, how could she say that? Falman said "We know there are matters to be resolved, but Fullmetal is a national hero and valued member of the military-"

"So then send some officers down, not valuable soldiers with large influence that could be used more effectively!" She was losing patience, could that Mustang really not use organise his unit? He proved damn useful before, but as soon as a team member goes missing he wastes time and energy rescuing them. Like always, she had heard. He even risked his life in the Ishvallan war to go back for soldiers from his platoon. The Briggs people know when the a man is down in war: he is down for good.

"I see, so, there is no more information to offer sir?" Falman said quietly.

"None. Now tell that moron what I told you and get him back where he belongs; fixing this country like he always said he should. It needs it now more than ever!" Without waiting for a reply, she turned abruptly and stormed out. Major Miles offered them a brief nod and followed after.

Fuery sighed, looks like there's no time to look around for Ed anyway. And there really is no hope of him being alive anyway…Poor Alphonse.

Falman turned to him, gave him an awkward smile and a small clap on the shoulder, and turned to head back to the city.

* * *

"Yeah, ya don't say, what kind of rules do they keep here?" Breda said chuckling, making his way inside the small military building. It was a post, almost like a sentry, of the Drachman border to Amestris.

Havoc responded sullenly "Mustang would _never_ let me smoke, it's not fair these guys are allowed to."

"Quit sulking! Here they come." Breda smirked at Havoc then grinned at his mock annoyance.

"How can I help?" A man approached, eyeing the two warily, dressed in the Drachman military uniform. He was official and dutifully smart, much unlike the two confronting him.

Havoc raised an eyebrow at Breda discreetly when he noticed, and spoke to the black-eyed, broad shouldered man "We were wondering about the reappearance of Edward Elric sir, he was spotted in this town only last night.

The mans expression did not change, and he answered without a falter "he has not been sighted at all, I think you are mistaken."

Havoc and Breda exchanged confused looks. "But he was sighted only last _night, _how can that be? It was a Captain who told us, at the Military Ball, the receptionist at the hospital confirmed it." Breda said quickly, reciting easily.

The man shook his head firmly, "Amestris and Drachma have been on hostile terms at best, it is not unlikely that a Drachman would lie to Amestrian soldiers to get them on a goose chase- especially in the case of their famous hero." His eyes narrowed towards the end, looking at them like they were fools.

They said nothing. Could all that be true? Damn, they thought they were so close…The chief had been dead all along, poor Al. Breda nodded, troubled, his thoughts were only confirmed. He jerked his head at Havoc signalling, as they exited the building. The large man watched them leave.

* * *

Mustang huffed impatiently, "yes I _know_ there was a power outage. I said have you seen anything, obviously the answer is _no_."

"Patience, sir" Hawkeye warned from beside him. He looked at her and back to the useless informant, who grinned maliciously, purple eyes glinting. Mustang pursed his lips, hating that colour. This man was winding him up.

Before he could open his mouth to dismiss him, he heard approaching footsteps crunching through the snow. "Sir! We've have just finished our reconnaissance of the town, it revealed very little indeed." Armstrong's grand voice boomed through the streets as he approached, a silent and dull looking Alphonse following behind. The man regarded Al, sobering up, and swiftly departed.

Mustang nodded at Armstrong's words without noticing the man, not surprised. The town had little information to offer about last night, what with the power outage. And he guessed that there would be little to offer even without an outage, there was a small chance any of this was related to Edward anyway, he was dead. Although the mystery Alphonse was something that could not be explained, but could not be explored either; prolonged military stay in Drachma was not a good idea. He sighed, not wanting to but having no other option than to tell the boy this.

He turned to face him, and was about to speak again when Al spoke first, "I know, there's no point. Let's go back, this was completely pointless." His voice was almost emotionless, but seeing as this was the kind, innocent Alphonse, he couldn't keep the sadness from his voice.

Mustang frowned sympathetically, and Hawkeye looked at him with a stern glare. He took the message and looked back at Al and said softly, "Al we are here for you, you know. This doesn't have to be then end."

Alphonse eyes fluttered away, a lump choking his throat embarrassingly. He swallowed nervously and nodded, hands clenching in his coat pockets. Armstrong sniffled emotionally, "So heroic, so brave…" Al gave a small smile, feeling stupid for everything.

"We should get back to the others sir". Hawkeye spoke up, ordering him in her own way, watching Al with a sympathetic look. Mustang nodded, "I think Hughes is waiting for us too."

Alphonse took a deep breath and tried to reason with himself. He knew all along this was going nowhere, the amount of blood left last time…But what about that man who said he saw him? They could be mistaken he supposed, a famous name like his brothers would probably be popular to steal anyway. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts and faced ahead, ready to start again without his brother; properly this time.

* * *

He sat, staring forward, but noticing nothing. The small rundown shack they were all in was their stay house for now, but he was assured that he had a place to go to soon. They said there was a problem that needed to go away at the moment, whatever that had meant. His hair clouded over his face, it was long down his back and it shined slightly in the dirty filtered light. He was dressed oddly, he thought, too formal for a beat up place like this.

He was alone in the dusty room, and had been told to wait there by the strange girl he had woke up near. She said she was going to look for the others, and that someone should be arriving soon anyway. He didn't know who these people were, but he couldn't think of anything coherent, let alone speak coherently. They seemed to not be impatient though, and they were the only people he knew, so he had no choice but to comply in his impressionable state.

They called him 'Pride', and so far he understood that the girl who had left was Humility, and the two men who were there at his Awakening were Benevolence and Diligence. The girl called them Ben and D for short. This was all the knowledge he had, and he couldn't even draw it up properly in his mind, just swirling images and words, trying to construct itself. He took a deep breath, and didn't even start when Ben burst into the room yelling "come on then, Patience is waitin' for us!"

"Wh…h..?" Pride mumbled, almost choking on the words, the language was weak in his mind, he barely understood it. It was like a fading blur, a memory that just kept slipping the more he thought about it. Besides, these people barely used it, they used a much harsher tongue.

Ben chuckled, "Don't bother speakin', Patience is gonna teach you the ropes, Humility, me and D will check up every now and then." He hauled Pride up and pulled him along and into the main living room. Pride resisted, remembering Humility's words vaguely, thinking that he was supposed to stay. Ben turned to look at him, one eyebrow arched.

"What's with you?" It was less of a question, more of a thought spoken out loud. Pride gestured vaguely around him and sat on a nearby table, staring obstinately at the grimy floor. Ben sighed and sat next to him, guessing he was probably told to do this. Shortly after, Humility entered the room, looking surprised at the two sitting there, staring blankly. Ben smirked up at her, then when back to copying Pride, who looked at him eyes wide not understanding.

Humility huffed, and said something in Drachman, and turned and flounced away. Ben smirked again and exhaled in an amused way, and pulled along Pride behind him, who was more compliant now.

* * *

Pride settled down silently, watching his surroundings with his usual blank expression. D was nearby, arms folded and glaring at the boy, he growled "He better not be like that forever. It is irritating."

Ben waved a hand smiling, he was lying down on the carpeted floor, inside the grand room they were in. Humility was checking outside the expensive windows furtively, worry on her face. Nobody spoke for minutes, until someone entered the room, and looked around, quickly noticing Pride sitting on the edge of the luxurious bed.

"Ah" the man spoke, his heavy lidded eyes noting him with distaste. Ben grinned at his expression, and looked at Pride from the corner of his eye.

"My name is Patience" the man spat venomously in Drachman, "you are Pride, and I am going to teach you the language of Drachma, and what you are to do."

He waited a moment for a reaction, in which Pride blinked and tried to remember the bits he could understand. Patience continued "I will also teach you speech, seeing as you so lack it, and if you have any questions during your lessons then make them brief, we do not have all year." He turned up his nose and gestured for him to follow.

Pride looked blank, then stood slowly and followed. The group watched him leave, Ben still smiling strangely, eyes glinting mischievously at Humility's expression. She actually looked _worried!_ Ha! He's the sin here, not them! The exact reason he is there.

Virtue's can't have sins, so Pride will be what's missing. After all, it's not wrong for a Sin to commit a crime, but it is for a Virtue.

* * *

**A lot of Al's lot I know, but I will include more Virtue-ness next. The next chapters are mainly summarised, some parts skipping weeks then some parts going into detail. In the end 4 years will pass . It's not the end though, Ed and Al will meet again! **

**I forgot to include Winry alot though, is that bad? O.O Also, I just realised Humility is sounding like a Mary Sue, but believe me she's not. I have some plans about her and Pride but I'm kinda unsure whether to make Pride!EdxOC, 'cause I hate those, and I don't think that will be best received. But I can do it good if you wouldn't mind that pairing, let me know and review!**

**One last note, check out my Fma oneshots! (Thanks Half-HeartedShadow, my lone reviewer XD I'll have a go at that request, sorry if it turns out bad :D)  
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	7. Test My Patience

**Since no one answered the pairing question, i'll just go with what I imagined it to be. Which might not even be a real pairing anyway, but thanks to everyone who reviewed. It really is awesome to read those.**

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Chapter 6 - Test my Patience_

_Alphonse_

Al looked down at the list uncertainly, then glanced back up at the military man in front of him. He bit his lip, not knowing what to say to the Corporal.

He consulted the list again, and said "I think it's best for you to be deployed in the western area, just past the city outskirts, there are some rebel slum dwellers camping there. I need you to excavate them, but please make sure that none are hurt. Negotiate, don't force them out."

The man regarded him with narrow eyes, lip curling, then eventually saluted stiffly and departed from the tent without a word. Al let out a sigh and leant back against the small desk, wishing he wasn't the one deploying these unwilling soldiers. He had been designated to a certain area north of Flamel City, along with other soldiers, and was given the task of sending lower ranked soldiers to other areas to solve small problems that add to the larger ones. These small problems were stunting industrial growth in all major cities, people couldn't agree long enough to hold a stable economy, and rebels and strikes kept disrupting daily life.

He studied the dusty ground beneath him, and remembered the annoyed looks of all the soldiers who had received his orders, and went off to correspond those orders to their own men. They didn't want to be in this uncomfortable part of the country, obviously. They didn't want to be involved with angry Ishvarlans, who held a firm grudge to every Amestrian. No matter how old the soldier, no matter whether they were in the Ishvarlan war or not, they were always considered a threat. So negotiating with them was probably one of the more difficult problems they faced, especially as most of the men here were conscripted, instead of willing sign-ups.

He treaded his path quickly, dust billowing around his boots as he made his way towards another tent. He pulled aside the rough material and stopped himself speaking as he regarded the conversation before him. A red-faced Second Lieutenant was screaming hoarsely, jabbing his finger at some documents in front of him, and throwing insults at a very terrified looking Sergeant Major. In particular, a very terrified looking Fuery.

"-not Bernon; _Tyraith_! Can you hear orders Sergeant Major!"

"Y-yes sir, I heard that, and that is what I told-"

"Well obviously not, Sergeant, or we would have 50 soldiers working in Tyraith, instead of 50 useless soldiers hanging around Bernon!"

Alphonse's eyebrows rose. Fuery was almost cowering away, backing himself into the tent wall even though the 2nd Lt wasn't even moving. Mustang's group had been split up; so as to gain an advantage in helping the country in his name in all areas. Alphonse had been assigned here with Fuery in the East, Breda and Falman in the South, Mustang and Hawkeye stayed in Central Command, Havoc and Armstrong in the West, and finally Hughes, Ross and Brosh in the North.

"Sir, if I may intervene, in the Sergeant Major's defence there are many recruits working in this area who have been conscripted. A lot of these soldiers don't want to be here at all, it wouldn't surprise me if they didn't do their jobs properly or carry messages all that well…"

He had slowly lost his confidence in his speech. The man's maddening glare, and Fuery's frightened wide eyes made it difficult to hold a steady sentence.

The 2nd Lt.'s eyes narrowed at his words. "Major," he saluted. "This soldier has wasted military time and made the mistake of sending 50 valuable soldiers to a stable environment. I don't think I need to go into detail of the repercussions of that. Aside from the riots that have now been left untended, there is now panic among a once ordinary functioning town because of the invasion of the military."

Alphonse nodded, trying to muster more courage than he had with his own superiors and help the poor Sgt. Major. "Oh, but I have had to deal with these conscripted soldiers, and they are reluctant to be involved in any fighing with the Ishvarlans. It might not be Fuery's fault."

The mans lip twitched at the sound of Fuery's name, and said rudely, "You're both Mustang's men, aren't you?"

"Yes. Why?" His eyes widened in confusion. But the man did not respond, he shook his head irritably and moved out from the tent with a jerky salute.

Fuery breathed out deeply, nodded his head gratefully, and said "Thanks, Al."

He smiled, "don't worry about it. What actually did happen? You didn't get a chance to explain yourself."

"I don't really know. I gave the right message, I'm sure of that, but next thing I know I'm getting a radio transmission that a whole team of soldiers are disrupting a town further south." He shook his head sadly, "did I mess up? I must have sent an unreliable messenger…"

"Don't worry about it, it could have been a lot worse. I have another team nearby Tyraith anyway, I could send them over when they're done, they shouldn't be long."

He looked closely at Fuery. He really was lost without the team, he would have been eaten up here alone. This wasn't the first time Al had had to save him, but he thought that he wasn't the best person to be partnered with Fuery; especially in this particular area. They were both determinedly weak characters, but perhaps that was Mustang's plan to change that. They needed more confidence if they were to deal with the Ishvarlans effectively enough to promote Mustang's name.

Over the next weeks the Tyraith incident wasn't the only mess up to occur. Soldiers seemed to consistently get orders mixed up, send ammo or resources to the wrong areas, and military documents and paperwork disappeared in loads at a time.

Al rubbed his face furiously, then came to a rest with his forehead in his palms, eyes closed. He sighed and looked at the paperwork before him. He needed to re-write documents the Higher ups had lost using rough notes about what they had contained. This was difficult as he never knew if he had the details correct or not, somehow the documents he re-produced for them always passed the mark, and were sent off. Secretly Al believed they didn't really care, paperwork was the last thing anyone wanted to write or check in the midst of a diplomatic crisis. The fact that Al had been lumbered with it proved what a weak character he was. He sighed again.

On a break, Al settled himself down on an outside bench and gazed over at the sandy landscape in the direction of Ishval. If these mess ups continued they could really damage their influence with the Ishvarlans, one simple mistake was enough to cause enough distrust from them to simply decline military access into their camps. Many were returning to Ishval, living among rubble and wasteland, and cursing the military relentlessly.

A middle-aged Sergeant sat opposite Al, he nodded and sipped his coffee. Al smiled politely back, and stared off again, wondering. A few more joined their table; two Warrant Officers and a 1st Class Private. A low conversation sprung up, and as a Corporal joined the bench he found himself in the middle of a heated discussion.

"He could barely carry the folders, never mind take an order properly!"

"These conscripts couldn't be worse if they tried…"

"…I think he burned the manila envelope…actually burned it!…"

Alphonse smiled at the wood in front of him. He could easily add to their complaints, but the conversation quickly turned into a debate.

"It's just the conscripts messing up, they don't care that this is our career's they're screwin' with." The burly brown haired Warrant Officer had spoke, speaking through a gruff moustache.

"How? There's just too many, it's too convenient that there's new recruits and mess ups, they go together well enough to be passed off by everyone." An intelligent looking young Private added, frowning at his hands.

Al contemplated that. Too convenient? There can't really be Military conspiracies even now, can this government ever work itself out? He nodded sagely, it was his job to help Mustang do just that.

* * *

Lessons with Patience were tiresome. Every mistake made him angry and irritated, and he seemed in a constant spiteful mood, especially when Pride was around. He tried, tried so hard to understand the language and lessons of Drachma, and thought he was progressing well, but every time he thought so Patience would say something like "How long do you intend to blather around?" or "That's not _speech_, that's verbal garbage."

Pride hung his head defeated, his hair curtaining his frowning face. He had wondered time and time again why he had to learn these things, when all the others were coming and leaving as they please. Although, they did seem to know much more than Pride could comprehend. Maybe that meant he was allowed to leave if he was intelligent enough? He looked up, eager to leave his bland, but luxurious prison.

In Drachman, Pride said "My name is Pride, and you are, c-called…P-patience." His words failed towards the end as usual, but the man seemed pleased.

"Well your words can at least be clear if you try hard enough. Now we'll work of the whole sentence, not just as much as you can be bothered with." His voice returned to its sarcastic tone again.

Pride nodded, strangely attentive. He listened to the first few sentences about the structure of the military, the different ranks and authorities. He started thinking about that, all the ranks, it was like among them there was a 'pecking order', as he had heard Ben say one visit. It was similar to these people, he thought, Pride seemed to be very low, and everyone's 'ranks' progressed upwards. They referred to someone else though who was higher than any of them, so maybe that was their 'superior', like in the Drachman military.

"Pride! Will you _listen_?" Patience hissed. Pride looked worried, he thought he had been paying attention. He was trying to understand.

"These facts are important, you have to pay attention! What is distracting you?" He demanded.

Pride thought. Distracting…Why did he not listen? He tried really hard to think about it. He listened to what Patience says, but then he would start thinking about it and not listen to the rest.

"I…listen but I, I don't…c-can't…concen-concentrate." Pride struggled, trying to clear his head as other thoughts and images he didn't recognise faded in. Every time this happened he had been told to push them away and to not think about them, and eventually he forgot them. But there were so many it took a long time.

Patience frowned. He looked around the room, and considered his next words.

"What would you like to do?"

Pride was blank. He didn't understand, he just did what they told him to do, he just got lessons.

"I don't know…what, d-do you, do?" He blinked, annoyed at his disability in selecting words.

Patience frowned, trying to interpret. "You mean, what is there to do? What do I want to do? What do I do in my spare time?" His eyebrows rose as Pride looked helpless.

"Well, I suppose you can go for a walk with one of the others, I don't see the point myself, but it is said to help clear the mind." He frowned at Pride, who just stared at him, then looked down.

He was told to wait until one of the others came, so he spent the day wandering the room, and staring at the luxurious grounds below. There were convoluted hedge rows, with fountains here and there, but plants were growing so spectacularly most of the pathways and clearings were hidden. He looked up over the garden into the distance, and scrutinised the plain landscape with fascination. It was all grass, rolling hills with small roads that extended into nothingness, not a person in sight.

The door handle turned and the it clicked open, and Humility walked in, noted Pride by the window and Patience sitting away reading. She looked confused for a minute, then Patience explained "He is distracted, perhaps a walk would help? He does not know of anything other than this room and what he has learnt here."

She nodded, smiled briefly and moved over to the window and looked outside. She looked at his interested face, and said "Do you want to go have a look?" Her lip curled up one side, giving her a crooked grin.

Pride nodded, eyes bright with curiosity.

She motioned to him. He followed dutifully and his heartbeat accelerated as they approached the door. He had never been outside, he didn't know what there could be out there, and he grew wary. His caution just made him want to get out sooner, to be released from his cage, so before she could reach the door he was there grasping it open. D came around the corner just as he made his movement, and at once the three reacted fast.

Patience came over and put a steady hand on his shoulder to pull him back, D came forward ready to control any abrupt movements he made, and Humility looked surprised, then said "Please be calm, we'll take this slowly." She made calming gestures, as if she wanted him to stay back or…not move? He didn't understand gestures that well, but her hands were spread out and facing diagonally down towards him.

Pride was stunned into silence and didn't move, his eyes were wide and his breath was rapid. He didn't move for a while, and eventually Patience removed his hand, and they each stepped away a bit. Pride looked at each face, wondering what will happen. Was he not allowed out to the gardens now?

Humility nodded, and smiled encouragingly, but Pride still looked confused. She stood out in the hallway, and when he didn't move, she motioned for him. Pride looked at D and Patience, they both nodded once, and Pride stepped out. He regarded the hallway warily, noting the expensive décor he knew well, and also that there were other doors much like his own. Humility took herself under his arms suddenly and walked along with him. He looked alarmed, but she ignored the disapproving glare from D and Patience both.

The walked for a while through the garden's twisting pathways, and Pride couldn't stop staring at everything. It was so easy to breathe, it was clearer here and the temperature much colder, his breath appeared before him and became immediately startled. He looked worriedly at Humility and she laughed, "it's okay, it's just your breath. It always does that outside here."

Pride's face screwed up as he examined the cloud that billowed out at each breath, and he was led off further into the garden. She began talking, about the others which he knew, and some he didn't. But he listened; she was the only one who bothered talking to him and didn't teach him. She was there right in front of his eyes when he had Awoke, too.

"Having to put up appearance for the Military all the time isn't so bad, though. It could just be a bit more interesting."

He wondered, and tried to understand as usual, and jumped when he heard a strange noise. Noise that seemed to flow together purposely, as if whoever created wanted those ups and downs, and the change in pitch and tone. He stopped to listen, was it meant to make him feel different; almost happy while listening.

She noticed him, and she said, "someone's playing the harp." At his confused expression she added "a musical instrument, he's playing music." Pride listened some more. It seemed you can say so much with these sounds. There was meanings without words, this is a language anyone an understand.

_I gave you a piano_

_Play how you lived

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**The italics are back again_, _thanks for reading. Also I just realised I didn't answer the review questions, so here they are (in order from first review to last in this chapter).**

**1. Patience is impatient because I saw the irony in the sins in Fullmetal Alchemist. Wrath is barely ever angry, but he can annihilate people without you even noticing him move. Sloth is lazy, but has massive muscles and strength. Envy hates humans, but they are exactly who he envies. Secondly, it takes place after the original, but it is sort of similar I guess, with different problems and whatnot :D Also Pride is meant to be a sin here, I know it can be considered both but I thought it relevant to Ed. And he is meant to be the only sin there, to be their sin.**

**2. I don't know what fic you're talking about, but I hoped you liked this one too. Also if they are half-brothers let's hope they don't eventually mate mate :D**

**3. Pride isn't in Ed's body, Ed_ is_ Pride now. Through transmutations and the like.**

**4. If it's confusing, explain :D I'll put the answer in these Authors notes or the story, you can pick if you want haha. O.o Where did I get the title? You're making me doubt myself lol. Guess if you know what will happen XD **

**And to all of you thanks again for reviewing.**


	8. Panic

**Thanks for reviewing. Here's another, hope you like it :D**

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Chapter 7 - Panic_

Alphonse sifted through the paperwork sighing for the fifth time that day. He was fed up with the whole situation in the East, and even with the regular contact from all the others; he was bored. He reached for document after document, writing and writing and signing and signing one after the other. Delicately written letters were addressed to a few families regarding the loss of a soldier, a task that his sincerely didn't want. More and more paperwork was being loaded on him, things that a Major should definitely not be authorised to sign or write. Why was he, a fifteen-year-old Major, writing to a group of adults that their sons and daughters had their life ripped away from them, in a dispute that no one wanted to solve, in a place no one wanted to be?

Definitely not something Al wants to or can deal with.

He read over what he had written, thinking he couldn't say anymore, and signed it. He had been told he had a way of words at cheering people up by Ed and others, but he just thought a letter could never cover something so tragic. Mustang telling Al face to face about his brother's death hadn't made it easy, but he appreciated that he had taken his time out; he really cared. Sending a letter was like saying "We lost another tool, sorry but it happens to be your son". But he had his orders and he followed them, even when they required a Brigadier General (at least) to sign.

Just then a Private entered the tent, saluted Al at his desk and announced without request "You've been ordered to General Harvey's tent", and left immediately. Al was getting pretty sick of this disrespect everyone kept showing, even Privates were doing it now. Scowling he rose and exited, heading for the described tent at the end of camp. On arrival he entered and saluted politely, while several officers glared and Harvey frowned disapprovingly. Slight sunlight filtered through the thin tent walls and dirt dusted up as Al walked in and took his place at the side of the battered table.

He wondered for a second what he had done this time when he said "You're late Major, I sent the messenger an hour ago."

Al blinked confusedly and said "But I only just got it." Some officers shook their heads and muttered, but the middle-aged General waved things on. They had been investigating the screw up that had been repeating, and it seemed they finally had some important news to share.

"We've narrowed the suspects down to-" He words were cut off as muffled shouts sounded at the side of the tent, followed by a dull thud as a shadow of a body hit the ground. All attention turned to the silhouette, and nobody notice the cotton masked woman sneak up from behind, and slide the blade swiftly across a throat, until the General crashed through the table. Stunned officers sprung to action while Al did the opposite and froze, shocked by the bleeding corpse of the man who had spoken only moments ago. They all sped towards the retreating sprinting figure, and Al held back vomit as he tried to look away, but froze as a hand closed around his mouth.

A blade was pressed against his throat, and his heart almost tore itself apart from fear. A gunshot rang out and the hand went limp, sliding away until another thud sounded behind him. He spun about and backed away from the other dead man, he gripped his head in disbelief, how did this happen so quickly! He couldn't keep up!

Fuery was suddenly in his vision, shaking him with one hand and asking if he was alright, a gun held in his right hand. Al nodded, face pale, and kept his eyes averted. No one respected him, but he only just realised he gave them no reason to; they were right even before it could be proved. He swallowed resolutely and brought himself to stare the dead in the face, his eyes fixed upon those of the assassinated General. He shook his head and left quickly to find the others, and hear what was happening.

* * *

Speech was almost easy now. He could say everything he understood, which although it wasn't a lot and weren't proper sentences, it was better than stuttering. He was sitting in the garden again, with Ben next to him chewing a tooth pick, and his arms resting on the back of the bench. He looked over at Pride, who was staring off at the white above the bench dreamily. He was listening to someone playing the harp, like he had been ever since he had first entered the garden, entranced in the notes. His eyes were glazed over as his chest lurched it's longing for something he didn't know, and could only find in the future.

Ben raised an eyebrow after an hour sitting there, and said "I think Patience wants you back in now, man," his accent was soft and sarcastic. The Drachman was fully understood, but Pride did not respond other than lowering his head slightly, the after a while stood and looked over at Ben soundlessly with bright eyes. Ben smirked, and stood to lead the way back out the garden, both hands in pockets. As they reached the steps of the building, Humility rushed out, Ben stopped, and Pride retreated behind his back.

She hurried over to them and said panting "Temperance stirred it, she ordered us to meet with Chastity in Denkovsk, now."

Ben didn't falter. "Patience?"

"Left."

He nodded once, and looked round at Pride. "Time for your first move, kid. One of our friends have caused a little trouble, and we need to get to someplace else."

"Trouble here?" He replied, eyes wide.

Ben laughed openly and said "Nah, far away somewhere to some people that don't mean _shit_."

Humility pursed her lips but said nothing. She pushed them both away into the green wood to the left, somewhere Pride had never been allowed. He breathed hard and seized up, he hadn't been there before. He can't go. He wasn't supposed to, no one told him…

"Pride move! What's wrong with you?" Humility said.

Ben snorted, "be a bit more specific". At her blank look he didn't explain, but said "Pride listen to me, you have to leave here with us."

Pride almost relaxed, but his fear was still there. He couldn't stop being scared even if they ordered it, and they ordered a lot. He followed them through unknown territory, slowing them down by staring around. Humility pulled him along by the wrist, and her contact brought a safety net of familiarity. For some reason whenever he found himself in distress, she appeared there and it didn't seem as bad, as if her next to him meant he wasn't the only one on the bad end of things; because she was there too.

He found himself pulled out into cold sunlight again, and watched his breath rush around and disappear. Then he noticed the area: there was a long road running into the snowy landscape, blocked by hills and trees, and there was a car coated in snow near the path. He was pulled in the back seat, and Ben took the front. He started the engine, and turned back to them, "You ready, kid?", the tooth pick was rolling around his mouth. Pride nodded, his gold eyes flashing in the sun, but didn't speak. The car started with a jump and shot down the lane, and Pride panicked and gripped a door, he shrank in on himself. He had never flown so fast, he couldn't understand things at normal speed, but at the velocity they were travelling he had no chance.

Humility looked like she might say something, but stopped herself and bit her lip. The car continued on but didn't slow, and Pride kept his tight grip on the side and the seat beside him. His muscles ached and seized but he didn't relent; he was terrified, and he couldn't move. At long last the car skidded a few times and halted beside a grimy door in a dirty town, and Ben jumped out quickly. He ushered them impatiently and disappeared through the door frame into darkness. Humility pried him from his locked position and dragged him gently out the car, and around into the building.

His new surroundings were disgusting, and Pride could only stare around like he always does. They were in a joint room: one that looked like a ripped lounge area and the other side some sort of neglected kitchen. Ben went off into the house through another door, and Pride stood rooted to the spot, until Humility told him to sit on one of the tatty stained sofas. She went to the kitchen and inspected it with distaste. Pride examined the cracked table in front of him, noting the dried on substances and poor quality. Everything here was so different to before, it was badly taken care of and everything was less bright and elaborate than he was used to. The change brought him discomfort, and he sat awkwardly and silently.

Humility muttered a curse and came to sit down on the sofa opposite. "I give up" she said, "I wouldn't know how to cook even if it was possible in that mess."

Pride said nothing. She went on, "we will have food though, don't worry about that".

Pride hadn't been worried anyway. He was uncomfortable in these surroundings, but said nothing. She said "We won't see Patience for a while."

Pride didn't understand what that really meant, so said nothing. She grew exasperated "Are you ever going to talk? I know you can."

He grew more uncomfortable, he didn't like speaking, it had been so difficult and frustrating before he didn't enjoy it now. He opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say, and closed it again.

Humility stared at him awhile, and smiling, she said, "fine, then I'll talk". She spoke then like she usually does when he doesn't want to reply, talking about people and places he didn't understand, and he listened, drawing comfort from the company and sound. The sound told more than she did, her pitch and rhythm wavered, rose and changed just like with music, and he listened and heard what she really meant with her sounds.

After a while Pride had relaxed, until someone he did not recognise entered the room, and he nodded at Pride kindly.

He said to Humility "We're in the clear, you two might as well get some rest. Breakfast is early."

She nodded politely, and he added to Pride "I'm Chastity by the way, we've finally met." He studied Pride a minute after he got no response, and then he nodded again and left down the door he had entered from.

Pride looked after him, and Humility said "His nickname is Chase, but he hates it."

She smiled at some memory Pride did not share, and turned serious and said "Our nicknames are usually what we use between each other like most people, and we have another name for others on the outside. You should be learning them all soon."

Pride frowned. Why so many names? What was wrong with the ones they had now? So what was his 'other' name?

Seeing his look, she answered before he could speak "Your title and true name is Pride, as mine is Humility. Your nickname is Vayne, as mine is-" Her mouth squirmed a bit as her face fought between amusement and annoyance at what she was going to say "-as mine is...is Mouse".

She said the word in disgrace, as annoyance won the war on her face, then amusement, as she smiled crookedly.

She continued, "Your name on the outside is Viktor, as mine is Irisa." His head reeled. So many names, and they were just two people. There was D, Ben, Patience, this Chastity and many others he had to learn too. His face sank as he realised this meant even more lessons.

He said nothing, still, and Humility smiled. "Don't worry, you wont have to use them all straight away anyway, you just have to get used to them."

He didn't respond, but she didn't wait, "Well we might as well get some sleep now." She didn't move, but looked dismally at the rotten sofa beneath her, and to Pride's enormous surprise she lifted her legs up and rested herself down.

He stared at her as he realised she was going to sleep there. She looked at him and half the mouth curled upwards, and said "We have to sleep on these tonight, try to get some sleep."

He nodded, dismayed that he had to obey this command. He reluctantly swung his legs up too, and lay himself down awkwardly. The light went out above, and his eyes adjusted to the dirty yellow beam glaring through the window. It was even shabbier than the first place he had known, and he longed for his soft bed. But he shifted and turned and settled into a curled ball, and closed his eyes.

"Good night, Pride" Humility murmured.

* * *

**I know, Mouse? It's sort of a name for someone who's humble, and I thought people don't pick their nicknames (I certainly didn't pick mine) and they don't always like them. Review :D**


	9. Memories

_Chapter 8 - Poeple Change, So Do Times_

Al scowled at the metal tent pole in front of him, and gritted his teeth. _I must not be angry. I have to always keep calm. Don't get angry…_

"All clear?" The Lieutenant Colonel asked his audience of one. As if he had asked no more than for a coffee rather than the raid of the suspected antagonists the military had been suffering from. The ones behind all the mishaps- impersonators, apparently. That sounded too familiar, he thought, as he remembered his desperate and pained search in Nolinsk in Drachma.

"Yes, sir" He replied instantly, somewhat begrudgingly. He was the first of the two to leave, and he did so dramatically; turning swiftly straight after he saluted and spraying dust up violently. Voices murmured behind him but he didn't care, they can say what they like. If people were going to treat him like a volatile teenager who thinks he can do what he likes, then that is exactly how he'll act; it's all they seem to expect.

He walked over to the dirt trail leading away from the camp to the mountain region and didn't bother lowering his head away from people, he glared at those who fixed him with a stare or ignored them resolutely. Like wildfire, the talk about his incompetence and his failure to act accordingly in a crisis had spread throughout camp within the day the assassin had killed the General. Two weeks later it was difficult not to hear it within his own troops, within his own tent. Rather than change subject or lower their voices when Al seemed to hear them, they carried on their conversation as if his presence made no difference.

Frankly, he was getting sick of it.

He marched his way up the slope towards his destination and tightened his lips in frustration. He had never been so hot headed before, so prone to getting angry. Every time he had reason to be, Ed had done it first, in his place, and if he didn't then Al just quietened further. But that was getting him nowhere. Soldiers knew or quickly learned his weaknesses and they just walked all over him. He had had no military boot camp training like the others, so he never really learned about authority, protocol and the like.

Rounding the rock pile near the crevice of the mountain he spotted the small team he was meeting. He mutely pushed away his regular dull pain of the memory of Ed away for the fiftieth time, then approached and nodded. The Colonel leading nodded in reply. A gruff looking Warrant Officer eyed him curiously, a stout black-haired Lieutenant softly kicked at the ground as he waited, and a lean, tall, female Sergeant had her arms crossed in an impatient fashion. The grey haired Colonel turned silently, and gestured for them to follow along a makeshift path he broke through for them in the brush, further up the mountain. The trek was arduous for Al's still fragile recovering state, but he managed it without complaint- no, he wasn't going to do that anymore. Complaining brought attention to his youth, and shows inexperience- despite his famous travels.

They reached a mountain wall that extended further than they could see to the left, and roughly ended a few metres to the right. They lined up without a word along the wall, Al taking his dutiful place at the back, and accepted the standard military shotgun the Colonel handed to him after the others. He waited in bated breath, testing out the heavy unfamiliar load he now carried, uncomforted by it's presence but keeping a firm hold nonetheless.

The Colonel edged back to the front of the group quietly, and turned to address his team with hard eyes. He glanced round the corner of the mountain wall cautiously, then quickly signalled them to proceed.

All resolution fled. It's now or never. He gulped. _What am I, Man or Mouse?

* * *

_

The sound of crashing and breaking glass cut through the dingy apartment, and Pride was startled awake. Fast talking loud voices blared through his foggy mind, it was like an annoyed Patience times a thousand and in loud volume. Except it wasn't Patience, this man's voice had more of a wavering tough tone that didn't reduce his words to sarcasm, as Patience's did.

Before he could process the sounds any further, a hand roughly pulled him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him in view of a dirty face. A very angry dirty face.

"What the fuck is this?"

Ben's troubled and distressed voice came somewhere to the left, almost in the kitchen "It's Pride, let 'im go."

"_Pride_?" The man snarled into Pride's alarmed face, and then threw him down into the table like a worthless rag doll. It snapped and crashed apart, but Pride dutifully kept his place among the pieces, despite the sharp ends poking and splintering him painfully. His winced as he tried not to move, and looked up at glowering man above. He stood with a supreme expression of distaste on his face, and turned as if he could stand the sight no longer. "He's the _opposite_!"

Humility came forward defiantly, with a cautious Ben lingering behind. She said "What do you even _want,_ Temperance?"

Temperance?

"_Temperance stirred it, she ordered us to meet with Chastity in Denkovsk" _

She?

Pride noticed D come slowly into view but looked, as always, as if nothing was happening that could endanger him. Which was probably true, considering his size and strength, he mused. Temperance, the angry dirty man, crossed his arms in a smug way, and a painful unexplained feeling of a memory he did not have swept through him like wind sweeping around dust.

"Smug bastard…" Pride muttered in an unfamiliar, Southern Amestrian drawl. The memory settled back down to nothing,

Everyone in the room stared. Humility looked distraught, and Ben stared at Temperance's dangerous face.

"What the fuck did you say to me you gormless, pathetic brat?" In seconds he had Pride slammed against the wall by his throat, his arms failing to relinquish the pained hold on him.

D stepped calmly forward, as Ben just stared in fascinated and confused anger, Humility likewise.

Pride just looked alarmed, he had no idea why he said what he did. It was like a reaction he never knew he had, to a memory he definitely didn't know he had.

But none of that mattered to the dirty-looking Temperance, he snarled and dragged Pride along behind him. A defiant kid's voice too much like his own surged through his mind unexpectedly- _Small man's syndrome, huh! _Pride blanched.

He was dragged to unknown areas of the apartment he didn't know, he was thrust through, but without the wary consideration to his reactions like the others had. He staggered down onto a shabby looking chair that surprisingly took his weight. The others had gathered round, as well as Chase, who Pride just realised had already been waiting there.

"Temperance, this is just ridiculous…"

"Shut yer mouth! You morons have almost wrecked everything with your god damned fucking molly-coddling!" His hiss and glare silenced Humility and any interruptions Ben could have made. D just stood with his arms crossed, diligently, like his namesake.

A grime-coated face sneered into the defeated yet curious face of Pride, who had never dealt with reactions like this. Such loud volume and sharp sounds. Unsettling.

"Listen here, Pride, there'll be no more fucking around from here on out. You're under my jurisdiction and I wont take your oblivious shit, you hear me?"

Pride nodded minutely.

"I said, _do you fucking hear me_?"

He faded away. "Yes. I hear you, Temperance," he said in a cool voice that surprised everybody. Melted gold gazed steadily into angry purple, and an eerie sense of calm settled itself upon the stoic boy. The air was thick with control and power, and no one dared to test it.

But then Ben spluttered, "What the hell…?"

And almost instantly Weak-Pride was back, and he shot a frightened look in his direction.

Temperance snorted, his face finally losing some of its glare but none of its unwavering challenge. "It's a start. Now it's time for your real lessons."

* * *

"Indeed I do, sir." Mustang calmly answered the General, who was still staring at him. Hawkeye made no move from his right, and the others gathered round the table shot him curious glances. This meeting just drags out. 'Elric is this', 'but too young for that', 'but too worthless here', 'but no one respects him there'. Bah. What do they really know about Alphonse Elric? Nothing.

"Brigadier, that boy is too young to be getting involved in-"

"Sorry to cut in, but Alphonse chose this future for himself. If he never gets a chance to prove himself, then this his whole objective is pointless." Mustang said.

"Either way! We already lost one of our most prized alchemists, we cannot afford to lose his brother!"

"Alphonse does not want to be a part of this game, he is no figure head. I have faith in him."

A lieutenant interrupted. "General, Brigadier, the real problem here is not the mater of Major Elric, but an oncoming war with Drachma."

"There is no damn war with Drachma! I tell you that what we face now is a civil dispute, one we are causing ourselves!" One Colonel spoke.

Mustang's lips thinned. He was right. They both were. Too busy were the military dealing with it's own problems in terms of rank and missing resources, it had no time for clearing the mess of the country properly than sending soldier camps, never mind the differences along the Drachman border. General Armstrong had been growing restless for a long time now, but they simply had no time or resources. Resources that kept slipping away, but this unknown enemy they may have found in the East.

But what now?

He wasn't getting anywhere- they didn't care about the civil unrest his own men were sorting this moment. They cared about whoever is causing all this disorder and chaos within their own ranks. Nothing changes, the military still look out for the military more than any other in Amestris.

* * *

His breath came fast and it hitched in his haste. Not a man moved, but a silhouette darted across the darkening sky up ahead. His eyes narrowed and prepared for the attack. One, two, three seconds passed and suddenly they were off, running down the slope into the crooked caves ahead, right into their camp, right into their hideout.

Al skidded down to a halt, then quick as he stopped, he bolted forward and the Amestrian dressed impostors came into view. An alchemical light flashed dangerously and a flash of fear streaked through him, and on instinct he shot, again and again. A grunt of pain sounded behind him and he turned in time to see the Colonel fall and break under an onslaught of rock. The others jumped past, and shots rang out.

A panicked scream came from the left and the next moment was a blur, as he dived forward to avoid the falling rubble, and lost his gun to it. A pool of blood came into sight and he stared, transfixed at the top-half of the Colonel lying crushed with a blank stare, the sounds of gunfire and yells all around him. _No, not this again! I'm just as capable as Ed dammit! I wont let them…They don't…_

He jumped to his feet, exiled all thoughts, and pushed forward over a pile of debris. Catching one by surprise, he jumped down nimbly and caught him around neck, stabbing him in the throat without a thought and pushed the body to the ground. _Out of sight, out of mind. Out of mind._

Looking up, he quickly assessed the danger the team were in, and picked up the gun the man had dropped as he fell. Without hesitation he aimed and fired repeatedly until there were none left but his team.

He gripped the gun. He gripped it harder, and his eyes widened. He looked down. He blinked furiously and breathed deeply. _Ed's killed before…_

He dropped the gun and raised his poker-face to the rest, who were tending to their injuries, and voicing their fear. The Sergeant looked over, "Are you hurt Major?"

He couldn't speak. He nodded, face painfully blank. "The Colonel's dead." His emotionless voice scared him slightly.

"Shit!" The Warrant Officer stood sharply, and rummaged around looking for their fallen leader, and then Al heard _"Shit!" _

_He found the body then…_

Al didn't move, he still stared ahead, trying not to think. The Officer came back, pale-faced. "Well we better report back…" Nobody moved. The Officer looked down, and a small gasp of pain emitted from the Lieutenant every now and then, as he tried to tend his wound.

_"Just keep moving forward. Get up and walk on your own legs. At least you have two good legs to walk on." _

_I'm trying, I am trying…_

No one moved and they looked to everyone but Al to lead, and his temper flared.

"Listen, I am Major Alphonse Elric, and with the Colonel dead, I _am _in charge. Now quit wasting military time and get a move on, our job here is finished, and now we need to get back in time to report. Lieutenant, search their bodies for anything useful we can give with our report." _I don't know their names… "_Warrant Officer and the Sergeant, if you can, try to lift the rocks around the Colonel so we take him back for a proper burial." There was a slight pause as they looked unsure, and his anger burned yet again. "Do I make myself clear?" He demanded.

"Yes, sir!" They jumped up at the sudden change in his demeanour, and set about their task.

Al didn't move until they were done.

When they got back Al had the unfortunate duty of reporting in to the new General in charge, and when he was done berating him and he dismissed him, he walked back to his tent alone.

He dropped his guard for almost a second, and a vision of a blood pool came to mind with the staring white eyes of the dead General, and the crushed Colonel flashed across his eyes.

_Don't think._

_Just don't think._

But as he reached his low camp bed, and sat staring at the shadowy walls, he could contain himself no longer. He broke down, alone, where no one could see him.

* * *

**Al's bit just had to be done, but what do you wanna see happen? Im genuinely interested as I have a few ideas and will write them according to your feedback (If you write any) ^.^ If you're confused, say so, everything is written for a reason :D**


	10. What Have I Become?

_Chapter 9 - What Have I Become?_

"Report back at 0900, no later." Al ordered the platoon before him. They saluted, and departed when he returned it. He allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction, they had all obeyed his orders for these past two months.

Well, not _all_ obeyed his orders immediately, but he was getting there.

He had pushed and pushed himself to ridiculous limits, taking the most dangerous assignments with the most ruthless opponents. The small team in the infiltration mission he had two months back had become the beginning of his platoon, until finally a Colonel recognised his ability and assigned him a few more soldiers to command. He had more paperwork, inspections, addition training and missions eating his time away, and he hadn't met with others from Mustang's unit at all. He couldn't even find Fuery, and they had been assigned together.

As he watched the platoon leave for their routine inspection of the desert, he thought maybe that it was about time to try and find him. So he turned briskly, using his authority as artificial confidence, while he tore up inside with shame. He walked past soldiers avoiding his gaze, and arrived outside Fuery's olive green tent, and pushed past the curtain at the front. Fuery was inside, sitting on the floor by a low makeshift table. He looked up as Al entered and his face broke out into a good-natured smile. Al tried to break away the fortitude he had spent so long building to smile back, but it was clearly strained.

_What is wrong with me? _

He shook his head, and said "I'm sorry Fuery, it's been rough here." He settled himself near the table without intruding, and took a glimpse round the shady tent with interest. Much smaller than his own.

"That's fine Al, it must be difficult. I heard about your last mission down in the desert plains with the Ishvarlans. It was a good call." His smile was easy, and Al envied it. Why was Al getting beaten around enough to change himself, yet Fuery can handle it? He felt a spasm of guilt, how could he even think like this?

They talked for a while, and it turned out Fuery _had_ been slandered by the others too. It was because they were in Mustang's unit, and after the Promised day it was now abundantly clear Mustang wasn't as incompetent as he had been trying to appear for so long. They were wary. Fuery didn't mind and they let him be for it, it was Al who couldn't take it and had to try and prove himself, and make it even more difficult. Well so be it.

Talking was trying for Al, he couldn't let his defences drop and his guilt and self abhorrent pour out. So he left, he smiled his false smile and exited only 10 minutes after he had entered, and allowed himself a stressful sigh.

He resigned to going back to catch up on some paperwork, when the alarm sounded and camp sprung into a frenzied rush. A voice came through the nearby speakerphone pole, "Security has been breached, take up arms immediately. I repeat, security has been breached-" The voice was cut off with a choke and a gasp as the sound of a dying man filtered through the speakers. Al didn't even allow himself to freeze. At once he bolted to the assembly point for his platoon, and together they hurriedly searched for the intruders, guns at hand.

15 meters ahead of them, Al sighted foreign soldiers breaking through barb wire and wooden barricades, while others who had already entered fled in all directions. He yelled instructions, and then, "Fire!" and clapped his hands together then slammed them to the ground, so the barricades reformed themselves and shot directly through the hearts of the soldiers. Others who followed after were shot down like animals, but a few managed to fight their way in. He steadied his breathing at the sight of so much bloodshed, and alchemised the ground under the soldiers to shake, turn to liquid and solidify as they fell through. He noted arm and legs poking out of the ground, flailing as their owners suffocated.

Al turned and cursed when he spotted a casualty. _Only one though, not bad. _He shook his head, shocked at himself, and yelled for the platoon to move on to look for the others.

Soldiers were blindly rushing about on their own. He yelled to them to follow his platoon, soldiers on their own are more likely to get killed. He recruited an entire second platoon round the west embankment far from the camp, and one Private gasped with fear, then fell down with a bullet lodged in his torso. On instinct he threw up and alchemised rock wall, and ducked as bullets rained through effortlessly. Glancing back to his squad, he signalled fire after 7 seconds, just in time for the opposition to reload and face the fire of his team. He yelled in unexpected triumph as soldiers of the enemy fell down. It was a large amount, a full force, and they were outnumbered.

Fuery appeared ducking and diving down to where they were stationed with a communications pack on his back, he was breathing heavily and he handed Al a phone connected to the pack. While soldiers dug temporary trenches and their only two State Alchemists built a another rock wall for defence, he listened to the call.

"Major Elric! Is that you?" It was the General.

"Yes sir," He was shocked. "What's our status, sir?" His voice was rough with the dirt and dust swirling around down his throat.

"Your platoon is the furthest out, you are too far for reinforcements to arrive safely if need be. You must retreat to closer ground."

"But sir, this could be over soon we-" A blast of dirt knocked Al to the ground and he saw Fuery go down under, the phone broke and was buried. Drachman voices sounded nearby and guns glinted in front of their demolished wall.

"Damn" he muttered. Then converting his fear into adrenaline, he dug with his hands through the mud for Fuery, ignoring the sound of approaching soldiers. A glimpse of wrecked navy blue caught on his fingers and he heaved and pushed the dirt aside. He breathed with relief as Fuery came unearthed and took in shaky breaths, still conscious.

"Major! The Drachmans are here!" The frightened scream brought him back into reality and he turned in time to see a Drachman scream and land of top of him a knife raise above his head. Al choked and tried not be afraid, but he couldn't, death was right here…

_Slam!_

The Drachman went flying and a black glove helped him to his feet.

He came face to face with the stout Lieutenant, who nodded, "don't die yet, sir. You still have a platoon to command."

He nodded, and gave a half-smile.

He never knew then, that that would become his only reason for living.

* * *

This Temperance was more irritable than Patience. Well maybe not irritable, but, what's the word? Angry. Very angry, all the time. Or maybe just when Pride's there, as he has previously suspected. He kept saying odd things, random sentences he didn't understand, in another language. Every time he did, Temperance got angry. Like Level 5 angry, on the scale of 1 to 5. He didn't understand why he was saying these things, but he wouldn't explain even when he asked. He was confused, and when he was confused he didn't want to speak, and not speaking meant he couldn't do his lessons properly. Not doing his lessons properly made Temperance angry again, usually about Level 4 or 5.

He looked down, ashamed at the day's poor progress. He had learnt more, different things, things they had been avoiding telling him. Now he had to apply the basics he had learnt before expertly, to different situations and involving other knowledge. Temperance called this 'tactics', and 'good coercion skills', but he still didn't fully understand it. Temperance said that if you say something to something in a certain way, with a certain body language, with a certain facial expression, they will talk about certain things. Why didn't they just talk about these things to begin with?

But he found this all to be true. Since he had met Temperance, he had been separated from the others in another part of the run-down city. He had been locked up and forced to learn the hard way about diligence and manners. He avoided staring, and only watched people when he was sure they could not tell. He practiced what he had learned, watching people's actions in the city with Temperance.

He watched the way they acted to certain other people, and he calculated what certain people would have to do to get a certain reaction. He wondered if these people had learned this too, and came to the conclusion that no, they did not. Because some people manipulated others, and some couldn't tell, some didn't understand social differences, and some were not wary enough of other people's actions.

Temperance sat with Pride in an outdoor café, drinking from a grimy looking cup without distaste. Pride had learnt to do the same, he had had to adjust to the filth of this city fast to survive. When Temperance had finished, he set the plastic cup down with a snap, and stared with a grumpy frown at Pride. It didn't unnerve him anymore, he had learned through his 'tactics' and 'coercion skills' not to show much emotion and intent on his face. But it was difficult and he hadn't quite mastered it, and he avoiding his gaze.

Temp growled "You need a haircut. Why the hell did they let it stay so fuckin' long?"

Pride had become accustomed to Temperance by now, and he said "It's always been this long, as long as I can remember."

He snorted, "You don't automatically have long hair".

"What?"

"Nothin'. Let's go."

They walked for a bit down the cobblestone streets, through small alleyways into smaller alleyways, until they stopped outside a crooked shop with a window so filthy Pride couldn't see through the green slime at all. Unfortunately, Temperance went inside.

A tacky-looking girl chewing gum met them at the front, looked lazily at the two, and said, "the kid?" Pride noted that some of her words varied unevenly in pitch, and came to the conclusion that she was actually scared.

Temp nodded at the woman, and she dragged him to a nearby chair with her painted claws. He saw a cracked mirror in front, and looked sideways to see a beetle scuttle across a dusty and hairy floor. He quickly assessed all the sharp and dangerous objects nearby, like he had been taught, and noted the two escape exits and how to get to them in a haste.

A brief conversation exchanged between the her and Temperance, who had been introducing himself as Lev while in the city, and soon the woman was combing and snipping away at his hair. It fell smoothly and tickled his neck, but daren't move. She held a dangerous object in her hand.

But she was finished, Pride inwardly relaxed and Temperance gave him a knowing smirk. The woman was paid and the two left. In the alleyway, Pride took a minute to note his appearance properly in the green window, which reflected like a mirror. A memory bubbled from nowhere, and he had the image of a child who looked similar to himself, with the same haircut. Except it had different effects on the two, he looked… well, he couldn't place it. But he had a feeling this was all to do with the 'coercion skills'. Temperance said appearance has an effect, after all.

Now Temperance looked wary, he wasn't paying Pride any attention at all, and was glancing up and down the alley fervently. Pride hadn't seen him like this before, and began anxiously looking about too, hearing muffles yells. Until he was dragged along again, and they broke into a run around the corner. They ran a few more streets, barging past disgruntled thieves and beggars, until they came across a blue-clad soldier.

Temperance said, "Shit!" as a bullet came soaring past him. The man fired another and it hit him in the chest, the large man fell down. The soldier turned his attention to Pride, who had managed to keep a blank face throughout. A trick he had learnt through much pain and lessons, although Temperance wanted it perfected still. Pride took a step back, but somehow Temperance suddenly lurched to his feet, unearthly sparks flashing in his chest, knitting it together. He pulled a pistol from his jacket and mutely shot the soldier in the face, and he grabbed Pride and ran again.

They rounded the corner just in time to hear voices behind him, yelling "One soldier down, Mustang sir!"

And then a snap echoed down the now deserted alley, fire burned behind him, destroying the slum buildings and cremating the floor.

His heart pounded, but the air gave no relief, it burned him more. _Mustang, why is that so familiar? _

More memories flooding through him, and he had images of a black haired man, _"Come on, Shorty, how am I supposed to read the report if you can't reach the desk?"_

He shook his head violently, and jumped over a cart passing in front of them. He felt lighter with his haircut, it was still longer than most people's but he felt different, like what he has learned and how he has changed, has changed him physically. An unknown confidence sprouted from this thought, and he pushed on, diving down another alley with Temperance trailing behind him, with the sound of bullets shattering glass nearby.

He decided he would encourage these thoughts without the others knowing, he needed to understand to move on without doubt of what was happening. He didn't understand why they wouldn't tell him, but from what he has learned about body language he realised that they didn't trust him. He was different, and they thought he wasn't smart enough to understand what they said. But he learned quicker than they realised, so fast he learned how to conceal his intelligence as soon as he realised this, and that maybe they can't be trusted themselves.

Yes, he was different and they knew why, and he was determined to remember that.

* * *

**Thanks for reviewing, people, your comments were greatly appreciated :D There's a lack of dialogue in this chapter, I think. Do the people want more talking? Or is it fine the way it is? Remember to review!**


	11. Distrust

_Chapter 10 - Distrust_

Back at the apartment, Temperance chuckles and settles into a worn chair. They had managed to lose the soldiers in the labyrinth of the streets, and Pride's head was still whirling with thought.

"Those bastards wont get us here." He rubbed his chest absently. Pride just sits, thinking.

There was the usual silence when Pride doesn't speak, and like every other time, Temperance is the one to break it.

"I think Humility and Ben will be here soon." He speaks more to himself, used to the absence of the other's words.

But Pride does speak, "Why are they chasing us?", quiet and unassuming.

Temperance doesn't answer for a minute, then turns his head away and says "This is a dodgy part of the city, I guess they must have thought we were criminals".

_Liar. I am not an idiot. _But his face remains as silently passive as ever. He dares another question, "How did you heal yourself like that?" He was thinking back to when he was shot, and almost immediately got back up again, with those strange lights…He thought he had been the only one who experiences the strange healing. He had the feeling from the others that he was different, but if they were not, why did they treat him like an alien? A nonentity?

Temperance sighed as Pride remembered. "I guess…Well I guess things get different from here on out." He glares at Pride again, for some reason. Pride completely disregards it now.

"Changes…how?" He ventures. But Temperance only sighs, too irritated to explain.

Soon after, a knock is heard at the door, and Pride freezes up on instinct.

Temperance ignores him and gets up, complaining loudly, to open the door. Like he said, it was Ben and Humility who entered, followed by the ever silent D. The three look round the broken and shabby apartment, and settle their view on Pride watching them.

It had been quite a while since they had last seen him, and Pride guessed from their expressions and body language that they were surprised. He even noticed the subtle facial movements of D, who had always been so unreadable and a mystery to the others.

Unlike all the other encounters between the group, this confrontation didn't involve talking among themselves while Pride kept silent. For some reason the group seemed more…How to put it? Aware, of Pride. Like they were beginning to treat him as if he wasn't an object of the room. With all the training and observation Pride had undertaken these past few weeks, he could not understand this change.

_Maybe they would only treat you as they would any other once one of them had beaten and chained you up. _He contemplated this, and wondered if all of them had been buried underground to train their patience, too. He couldn't picture Ben in a buried coffin, somehow.

Humility spoke to Pride, "You'll be moving from here now, Pride, to private quarters in the Federov Manor. There are some relatives of the hierarchal part of the military living there, too. The manor is mainly used for military Dances, because of the Grand Hall there."

The others hadn't said anything, and Pride wondered why they bother explaining things now. He began to realize he didn't particularly care what people said, they mostly lied even when their face and expressions gave them away. Instead, he had been relying on his observational skills and face reading abilities to deduct truth from lie, and reality from fantasy. Picking apart what she had said, Pride assumed so far that he was to be in the eye of the public now. It was like a leap for them, he realized, and what he had experienced was tests and training for what was to come.

He was then beginning to process whether he would comply to what they wanted, in light of everything he had been noting and storing in memory. Then Temperance spoke.

"When's he leaving then? Now?"

Ben simply nodded, toothpick rolling hanging out from one side of his mouth. He was watching Pride critically, eyes reading him. But he was fairly certain that by now, he could read nothing but blank emptiness in his eyes. He hoped at this point that this was a good thing.

The group were soon in the car, the second time Pride had ever travelled in one. This time the roof was attached, but the ride was still unsettling and uncomfortable. They travelled a long time down country lanes, out of the way of the towns and cities. Hours passed in near silence, Temperance occasionally swearing at people or things he saw out the window, then they rolled to a stop outside a breathtaking manor.

Pride didn't understand why they were now making another drastic change of scenery. But this time he was agitated and annoyed that he didn't understand, especially when the others _always_ understood what was going on. He frowned, and left the car as the others did. Together they made their way towards the grand manor, and Pride listened.

Ben sounded confident but uncertain at the same time, D seemed unconcerned, Humility was nervous and Temperance was in anticipation. He didn't listen to their words, just their voices, to understand this. Vaguely, he remembers again; _"Brother please, he didn't say that…" _He frowns, who was that now? Someone timid…

Wait, Brother? He has a brother? Impossible.

"Pride?" Humility had been watching him. He looked at her with calm eyes.

"What?" He puts no effort in, and he sounds as he always does.

"Are you ok? You look troubled." Ben and the others were listening discreetly.

In his usual timid voice, he says, "I'm fine." He looks round like he's curious, and says "Am I supposed to stay here?"

He knows every trick to hiding emotions now, and he knew she couldn't see past his dull exterior. How great it is to undermine someone with lies. He was actually enjoying himself.

She is clearly reassured and smiles, "Yeah. We're here."

They had arrived at the front door, and D let them all in with a key. The entrance was decorated lavishly, with arches and gold paint. Pride hid his disdain and looked blankly at the others, like he was unsure of what to do.

Temperance growled at him, and a smartly dressed man came to greet them. He said, "hello, I see you have arrived safely." He was afraid, and he cast nervous glances at Pride often. He showed them through the entrance and to a small hall, which had large double doors and a glass staircase.

"The doors are the main entrance to the grand hall" he says with pride in his voice, and then escorted them swiftly up the stairs. Walking round the balcony along the top of the small hall, they went through a passage to the top and right of the double doors. It opened onto a balcony that encircled the entire grand hall, with doors placed at regular intervals along it. They walked round, and Pride glanced down below onto the shiny floor and round dining tables. He noticed that the far wall was entirely made of glass, and the night was displayed like an ethereal painting across it. A large grand piano was placed at an angle to the glass, so the player would have their back to the corner where the wall met the window pane, and could overlook the hall from their seat.

They came to a stop at a door, and the man actually bowed to Pride, and said "This is your room, sir. Please enjoy your stay. You will find a change of clothes inside." His eyes travelled sceptically over Pride's street clothes, and quickly averted them before he thought Pride could notice. _People are naturally such bad liars. _

Ben nodded to him and Pride took the inclination to enter the room alone, and had the same feeling that he was not permitted to leave at will. He listened as the others walked away, and took in the spectacular room with annoyance. _Trapped again. _

_I gave you a piano_

_Play how you lived _

_I gave you a canvas_

_Paint how you died_

* * *

It hadn't taken long for his soldiers to take out the Drachmans, but for Al the worst is still to come. They cheered as the remaining soldiers retreated, and Al smiled in satisfaction, but it quickly faded with the approach of soldiers.

"Elric, the General has requested to see you."

Al nodded. He had disobeyed orders. The walk back was long, and Al barely heard Fuery offering words of encouragement, and a pat on his shoulder. When they reached camp, the soldiers dispersed and Fuery nodded his concerned farewell, and left too. Al squared his shoulders and breathed in, then marched towards the General's location.

In the tent, he tried to defend himself before he could speak. "Sir, I know I should have retreated, but we were at an advantage-"

"Enough, Major. I understand, and I realize that you did make the best call." He sighed and the silence the succeeded did not welcome an interruption.

"Major, I have been on hard on you these past months, and I believe you deserve an apology."

"I'm sorr- wait what?" He blurted before he could stop himself.

The General gave a small smile, and said "I underestimated you and treated you unfairly, purely because of who you are. Or were. You have changed, Major." Before Al could speak, or even breath, he continued, "And that is why I am giving you the promotion you deserve." Pulling out a brown envelope, he opened it to reveal official signed forms.

Handing them to a numb Al, he said "Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel."

* * *

Weeks later, Al was commanding and training new recruits. He had learned to control a larger team, and his original team became his constant allies. The stout Lieutenant, Allan, was hardworking and loyal. The tall female Sergeant, Mia, was interesting and full of stories from her birth home in Creta. The gruff Warrant Officer, Rick, was brash but kind at heart. Fuery had become his closest acquaintance, or as close as Al could manage when he was continuously throwing walls up, and keeping them for longer and longer periods of time. Kain knew this, but there was little he could do when Al was clearly still hurt, but refused to confront his emotions and dispel them.

Al had been reassigned to Briggs, and was in charge of settling the disputes along the border, alongside Major General Armstrong. Recently the disputes had been becoming more serious, and a war was threatening to break out. Negotiations between the two countries was dicey, and Al had the unfortunate task of defending any barrage of attacks they sent.

Mustang had been calling from Central now that Al was in an area with phones he was able to use, and told him of a pursuit in Drachma he and his team had taken on. He was tring to find those responsible for the breach in the military, and those behind the attacks and murders within the East camp. On a more personal note, Mustang and Hawkeye were apparently dating, and the military were none the wiser. Al had smiled at this, the first genuine one in weeks, and wished them the best of luck. The others were doing fine too, and called frequently, wanting to see if Al was okay. It was annoying, but Al came to look forward to their calls. It grounded him to reality, and reminded him that falling apart and breaking down his walls, was the last thing he needed to do. The minute he broke, they would all come rushing to put him back together- and he didn't want to be a reliability.

The problems and military errors had fallen to a minimum, while attacks from the border increased. It was as if wherever the military focussed themselves most, the Drachmans came to mess it up.

On an evening walk along the fort roof, Al watched the sun descend below the frosty mountains, and recalled the days he had spent searching, fruitlessly. He allowed himself a private moment to think about his brother, and remembered the time they spent in the hospital. The old familiar pain grew more heavy as his reminisced, and the despair of losing everything they had worked so hard for almost overwhelmed him. That is, until he blocked it out, and hardened his mind against the memories like he always did.

He breathed a sigh, and watched the cloud that formed from it. He was 16 today, and Ed would have almost been 17. Only a year had passed since the Promised day, and Al barely recognised himself. The naïve boy he once was had hidden itself away somewhere underneath his constant façade, and his trust in the kind nature of humanity had dwindled significantly. Nothing is as it was, the country was still wary of the time when they almost had their lives ripped away by the homunculi. People were changing, and those who he had once called friends have never returned.

Al was unsure of what to do. Was he really going to be in the military forever? Before, it had been like a split second decision, empowered by his anger and pain. But now? He wondered why he didn't even consider leaving. He really did want to stay in the military. For Ed, of course, but it was something else too. A determination to make a difference, a difference he can claim by his own hand. The country wasn't truly safe yet, and there was no Ed around to finish the job, so Al would. He gave a small smile at the thought of Ed, and realized it didn't tear him apart so much to think of his name anymore.

He was recovering, sure, but he would never forget. These people he had become used to were cause for comfort, but his true faith and pride lay in his job. His job was the only thing he had to make the difference he wanted. If he quit, then he would lose everything that mattered.

* * *

In the weeks since he had been here, Pride had remembered even more. Memories of journeys and travels came back, and he remembered the boy named Edward Elric. The boy who looked exactly like Pride, and was attacked in the street by Benevolence- Ben.

They knew- they knew everything. But the only things Pride couldn't understand was why the boy looked like him, and why they hadn't told him anything. Was he that angry blonde boy? He was so different, so maybe they were just related.

He had been thinking about it constantly, with so much time to himself. The past few weeks had consisted of the occasional Ball, and the odd walk through the garden. Pride had been bored and alone, and Pride had taken the opportunity to try and get information from one of the others. Patience had arrived several days after them, but he knew he would not divulge any information whatsoever. From everyone who was there, Pride decided Humility was the easiest target; she actually liked Pride. Ben seemed to also, but Pride could see through his charm into his underhanded intentions. He wanted to use Pride for his own means, just like the others. Humility just seemed like a passenger; but just as potentially dangerous.

So he stuck by her, asking his innocent questions and gazing with awe at simple things. He was her shadow, following at her will and spending day after day by her side. He was like a faithful dog, and those who lived or visited the manor frequently came to the habit of calling him her servant; as he fetched glasses, chairs and anything else at her beck and call. She fell right away to his act, and he knew that this would be easy. But one day he said too much, and revealed a memory he knew he shouldn't have. He quickly improvised and struck a confused face, but she seemed to realize what he was doing.

Out in the gardens, along a concrete platform bordered by purple Acanthus', she questioned him.

"Who told you?"

"I- Well I don't know, I just, I remember and I know it's him." He stuttered perfectly.

"How can you tell?" She wasn't buying it.

"I, er, remember someone saying, "Ed", and well, I've heard of Elric-"

"When can you remember?" She seemed panicked.

"Not often. I don't know a lot, just vague images…" She wasn't going to relent.

She stared at him, and the silence stretched. No doubt if he couldn't fix this, then she would tell Ben and the others, and they would realize that he knew. Temperance had already been suspicious. So he dropped the pretence, and the innocent boy slipped from his face. A cold mask replaced it.

"Alright, fine-" But she interrupted.

"Everything you knew. Forget it" She demanded.

"It's not that simple. You've been lying to me." He remarked. "There's a whole past I don't even know about."

She was disturbed by his sudden change, but said softly, "What matters most? A life that has already died, or a whole new life without pain? Don't dig up what's already ended."

He regarded her calmly, and said "You are all using me, I still don't know why, but this is a life with restrictions. A life where I'm manipulated and forged by people who need aliases just to go in public. Did you think I would never learn this?"

"We thought…We thought if you never went outside…If we controlled you enough and taught you enough, we could mould you into something that wouldn't need to remember."

"Don't forget moulding me into a tool to use at your expense", he said darkly. His gold eyes flashed, and he remembered Edward's similar glare. Maybe they truly were the same.

She didn't respond, and Pride decided that he could take advantage of this encounter. He spoke smoothly, "I don't care about my past, it's irrelevant now."

She blinked, and looked at him. He continued, "It doesn't matter about who I was, I just want to know." His skills and training were paying off; he was breaking her down.

"Well…I suppose it doesn't hurt to say anything. Do you know how you came to be? Do you remember that? You almost died. Well, you did in the end. Or he did, and you were born."

She sighed, and said "After we killed the Fullmetal Alchemist, we used our alchemy to bring him back to life, but we did it too soon, and you kept your memories. We tried hard to get you to block them but…Well apparently that didn't work, and we underestimated you." She looked up at him then, and there was an element of fear there. He felt something inclined to pity, but denied it when he remembered what they had done to him. Maybe he didn't want this. Maybe he was happy as Edward.

But they were denying that, and Edward was suppressed and forced to vanish.

He shook his head- he wouldn't allow that. He would do what they wanted him to do, whatever that was, and then he would leave. He would go to the country of Amestris and find the boy named Alphonse, and maybe the military man Mustang and his strange team. Perhaps the country mechanic girl Winry, too, and the martial arts teacher, Izumi.

But for now, he would stay by Humility's side and they would keep his secret together. If she would betray him…Well, he didn't know what he would do. But he hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

She was watching him nervously. He said, "Don't tell the others, please. I just wanted to know, and they would overreact."

She nodded eagerly, obviously relieved. Her eyes shone, and he briefly wondered why she still seemed fond of him even after she found out his lie. She was there when he had first woken up, and was the only person who hadn't been trying to constantly change and morph him. Despite his better judgement, he felt himself becoming loyal to her, and wondered why he wasn't more alarmed. Maybe in time, she would become _his_ ally, instead of theirs.

"Fine, then miss, we wont speak of this to anyone. Would you like me to escort you inside, now?" He resumed their normal manner like nothing had occurred, and he proffered his arm politely.

She curled a small smile, and took it gracefully. They walked back together in silence, then she commented mildly:

"You know, I do love a gentleman."

* * *

**It took a while, but it's all coming together :D Thanks to the reviewers! I look forward to them every time :3 Too many faces, methinks. Review?**


	12. Painful Routine

_Chapter 11 - Painful Routine_

It hadn't began randomly, he knew. He could always tell when and why things would happen now. But to an ordinary human, for that's what others were, it would have been a surprise. Just a rough knock on the door and without waiting for a response, Temperance and Patience charged in.

6 months had passed since he regained his memories, and the only thing he could think of when he wasn't distracting himself, was the people Edward Elric knew. Most of all, one Alphonse Elric. It wasn't as if he liked the boy, it was more like a fascination.

He was the one thing Edward had valued above all else, he was the determination that had driven him at such a young age. That he would go to such extreme lengths to help someone else confused Pride, and intrigued him to keep remembering. There was a lot to remember, and it gave him the appearance of a day-dreamer, until he learned to hide it from the others. He knew they would get suspicious.

He found the armoured boy interesting to say the least, and wondered if he would remember his flesh face enough to find him again. He found it to be the root of his own determination to escape his luxurious prison; another of the few similarities he had with the State Alchemist, Edward. He thought of finding Alphonse as his final step in being free. Meaning, if he has the power to find someone from his past by himself, then he has the power to escape and live however and wherever he wants. He didn't know what he wanted to say to Alphonse- it didn't matter, the only point was to be able to find him. Like scoring a goal and ending the game. Nothing comes after.

Still, it hadn't began randomly, and he was glad for it. When they came into his room he was nonchalantly ready, and watching them with his curious façade. They began slowly, but Patience rushed it on, prattling about wasted time, and they instructed him.

"Check the North barricade for the General, got it?" They reconfirmed, and Pride nodded with a plain face, already bored. He knew this had been coming, and he was impatient to leave. His first orders, at the age of 17, were to kill the General at the Drachman border and cause an uproar. With the chaos that would ensue, Drachman forces could assail the riotous troops and claim the camp. He was to also dye his hair a deep black, and wear sunglasses. They didn't tell him why, but he knew that is was to make sure no one would recognise him and his unusual coloured eyes.

So he left immediately, and followed the guidelines they had laid down. _Like I don't know what I'm doing. I was a State Alchemist, of all things. _They wouldn't know that he remembered that, but it didn't make him any less irritated.

He was permitted to go alone, so confident were they that he was tame and loyal, that they didn't even consider that he would try to escape. But he wouldn't, he decided, he wanted to see what they were trying to do. To see exactly why he was ripped away from his life as Edward Elric, and remember it. He didn't have to travel far, the Federov Manor was in Nolinsk, which was near the border to Amestris. So he caught a train to highest point of the border, far east of Fort Briggs, and located the camp he was to attack. Months of combat training rushed through his mind, and he approached the camp swiftly and discreetly.

It was nearing midday, and he was to attack the highest ranking soldier surrounded by at least a full platoon of other soldiers. Temperance said this was to scare them, to strike during the day and right under their noses would cause mass panic. 'The Amestrians will scatter, they are terrible at keeping calm and rely on their superiors too heavily', he remembered Patience commenting. That was true, they did managed to let their own Fuhrer deceive the entire country.

He was in disguise as an Amestrian Private, so no one would pay much attention when he entered the camp. He remembered his training, and kept his composure relaxed and open- as if he had nothing to hide. Locating the appropriate tent was easy, there were soldiers practically swarming in an around it, so he was unnoticed as he slipped inside. Keeping a calm stance near the General earned him no additional attention, and they babbled on in lazy Amestrian about new recruits and faulty weapons. With the cover of other soldiers clamouring for the General's consideration, Pride exercised his new found power, and enshrouded the confines of the tent in darkness. In their blind moment of panic, he pulled a knife from his jacket and deftly cut the throat of the narrow-eyed General.

He escaped straight after, and blended into a gaggle of soldiers walking down another pathway of tents. Running would draw attention, and it was unlikely anyone would pull up a single Private for anything anyway. When he made it to the gate, he followed after a group following a slow driving Military car, and made his silent exit.

Too easy, could the Amestrians be so quick to fool? But no, Drachmans were ignorant and had flaws too. It was because they were humans, Patience had said. Not that he needed him to, he knew they were all fools.

And that's how it began, not randomly, but on a simple request that led to many more. he had repeatedly dyed his hair the darkest shade of black and kept it that way ever since. Time and time again he was called to cause a panic, and Pride wondered why the others would even care about the defeat of Amestris by Drachma. He wondered if it related to the other Homunculi that tried to transmute their entire country, and wondered if the others wanted the same thing. He doubted it, the Amestrians would surely have destroyed the circle, and activating it didn't require conquering the country in war first. But he wouldn't challenge it, because he didn't care, they could all kill each other if that's what they wanted.

3 years passed in the same painful routine of captivity, and Pride was told to attend another of the Dances that occured frequently in the Manor's grand hall. He didn't think anything of it, it was not unusual, but Temperance explained that this was a Military Ball involving both Amestrian and Drachman soldiers. Even Chase came down to attend, and they were all somewhat anxious. Still not as revealing as humans are, though.

It was another attempt to maintain peace, and Pride wasn't told what they were all trying to achieve with it, as usual. Still he followed behind Humility diligently, and kept an indifferent and reserved demeanour to everyone they encountered, and rarely spoke. Under the cover of his black hair and sunglasses, even though they were inside, Pride wondered who would be here that could recognise him. He had never received so many second glances in all his escapades, as he was receiving this night.

* * *

Al didn't even want to come, he did tell them no. He hadn't seen the others for a long time, and he was becoming more and more frustrated and lonely. But he knew he couldn't break that pattern for fear of breaking himself. Still, when Fuery asked him to join, he didn't have the heart to say no. He said it would be the first time the group had come together since they had pointlessly searched for his dead brother. Upon reflection, Alphonse wondered if they had mainly agreed to do that based on their pity for him, rather than their own belief that he could have been alive.

He sighed and leant against the furthest pillar from the hall's entrance, delaying the inevitable for as long as he could. What's the point of dancing and talking to people who wanted to kill them? There was no denying it now; he was almost certain the constant assassination attempts were Drachma's doing. Every time a General or Brigadier was killed, Drachman forces would attack. They had been pushed back considerably and they had just retreated as far as Briggs City a few days ago- Fort Briggs had long gone under.

So this was Amestris' last desperate attempt to negotiate some sort of peace treaty, until the war reached full scale and Alphonse would be sent to the front lines. He shuddered.

"Hey Al! How you been doing?" Al recognised the excited voice of Havoc from somewhere behind him, and he turned to face the entire team, reunited again. The nostalgia evoked painful memories of returning to Central for a hot-headed teen to hand in a report. He smiled a little too cheerfully, trying to mask the pain that was still there after all these years. Only Fuery saw through it.

"I'm good, Havoc, just really want this to be over with", he nodded towards the Manor, and grimaced.

Mustang lead the group, and he commented "Don't worry about it, you don't have to speak unless they address you during the Treaty negotiations."

"If we get that far, sir", Hawkeye added sceptically, at his side.

He turned to smile a little too softly, seeing as they were in the presence of many soldiers. The group continued to move towards the Manor, taking Alphonse with them, and Al mused aloud, "I think I recognise this place. Have we been here before?".

Fuery and Havoc walked either side of him, Havoc said "Yeah, I think we were here before."

Fuery quietly replied, "This was the place we went for the Military Ball when we were told Ed had been sighted".

"Oh", was his only answer, as they neared the grand double doors and proceeded through them.

The night was long, and Al spent the majority of the time keeping out of everyone's way and just watching. He didn't recognize many people of the Drachman Army, but he was surprised to note that as well as Mustang's team, soldiers Brosh, Ross, Major Armstrong, Hughes, and General Armstrong were all present. He smiled sadly at the memories, and wondered what Ed would think of him now. Would he be ashamed that he taken his job this far? Excluded everyone, including Winry? Would he be sad to know that the only thing still driving Al was the prospect of revenge on anything and anyone, with the authority of his job? He had completely forgotten the People's Alchemist.

Sidling round a table of silent Drachmans, he crashed into a girl who had careered round the dance floor, looking past him. He apologised profusely and tried to excuse himself, when she stopped him, and said, "Hey, are you Alphonse?" with a heavy accent.

He looked up at her, and faintly recognised her from the last time he was here. Was it Elise? Lisa? Or maybe Ella?

"Irisa" she said, still watching over his shoulder, until a black-haired man came from behind him to move swiftly to her side like a sentinel. He didn't say any more, and Al couldn't help but stare at the way he seemed to be like- like a servant, really. Keeping just behind and to the right of her, but close enough to do as she willed. It wasn't a large display, but the effortlessness and fluidity of the man chilled him, and he wondered who he was behind those shaded glasses.

Irisa smiled swiftly, anxiousness creeping into her eyes. She introduced him in Amestrian. "Zis is Alphonse Elric, ze brother of ze deceased Edvard Elric", she said casually, and Al remembered her flippancy from those years before, noticing that she didn't seem to have learnt much. He nodded politely to the man, and a passive stare is what he returned. He resisted a shiver.

But she seemed undeterred, and said "Lieutenant Colonel, this is Viktor. He's like erm, a servant, I think would be the Amestrian word." So he is a servant then. They scrutinised each other silently, and Alphonse lost the contest when he averted his gaze from the unsettling man. He can't have been much older than him, but he seemed almost wise beyond words, like a genius in disguise. The man looked away uninterestedly, and Al stole another glance, and noticed an unnerving sheen behind the glasses. Bright eyes…? couldn't be…gold? He could recognise the colour better than most.

Irisa had been watching the silent exchange almost cautiously, but then ushered Viktor away, saying, "It vas nice to meet you again, Alphonse."

Al watched the pair depart, wondering about the strange encounter.

* * *

Havoc chuckled at the uninteresting joke the man proffered, and longed to slink away into the shadows like he saw Alphonse doing. The whole ordeal was tiring, and he didn't know how much longer he could feign interest at the bland jokes Drachmans seemed to enjoy. Finally he broke away from the dull man, and seated himself at a table that was half full, thinking they wouldn't bother talking to him.

He sat for a while, and turned to regard the group assembled together on the table. They were an unusual combination, much like his own team, and wondered how they came together. A young man was chewing a toothpick nonchalantly while a grouchy man mumbled a string of complaints. A wide man sat on the other side of the old grouch, and muttered a few words to the broad elder by his side. Havoc did a double take on the man, and wondered how he could recognise him. He thought back to the previous years, when he and Breda had tried to find information.

The man turned to watch him, and he confirmed his belief. He was definitely the one who turned him away with no information. His bushy eyebrows lowered over his beetle black eyes when his gaze lingered, and Havoc quickly nodded and excused himself. The man had recognised him immediately- the whole table seemed to. Something was strange about that.

* * *

Mustang sat at the small bar that had been put together for the occasion, and sighed into an empty glass. The Generals had little interest in agreeing to any terms he suggested, and their own terms were unreasonable and would not go down well with Fuhrer Grumman. He had taken a break for a quick drink with Hawkeye before he took another attempt, and a man settled himself to his direct left. He took no notice, until he caught the man staring shamelessly, a toothpick rolling around his mouth. He grinned.

"Hey there." He started. Mustang nodded and turned away slightly, trying to end the conversation politely. He crinkled his brow, and turned back to the young man and blinked at those purple eyes.

"Do I know you?" He replied. he was sure he remembered irritating purple eyes…Aside from the damned homunculi, of course. That was a strange coincidence.

"Not really, Brigadier." He was still grinning, then snorted and left the bar with the drink he had ordered before. Mustang blinked again, and turned back to Hawkeye's questioning face. He narrowed his eyes in thought, and had the memory of an annoying informative flash in his mind. He puffed and irritated sigh, what a waste of thought. But he had remembered Mustang- vividly, it seemed. Why would he remember something so insignificant so readily? And then be so obvious about it?

He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and left the bar to find the others with Hawkeye.

* * *

Fuery was sitting with Falman, being completely bypassed by the higher ups with barely a glance to the rank at his shoulder.

Mustang and everyone else arrived and filled the table, and the group was mostly silent for a while, all deep in their own thoughts.

"Weird thing that we happened to visit the same town and dance as last time." Al mumbled, carefully trying not to let anything spill over.

"Yeah, I just saw that weird hulk guy again. He creeps me out." Havoc said, nodding to Breda and signifying his involvement.

"Funny, I ran into a rather irritating informative at the bar just now, completely useless when I questioned him years ago." Mustang said, and Hawkeye nodded silently.

The group settled into silence, and Al restrained himself from recalling his memory of meeting Irisa those years ago, too. He didn't want there to be a connection. He wanted to whole thing to go away. He closed his eyes briefly.

"Do you…Do you ever get the feeling that they sort of…"

"Recognise you?" Breda finished, and Mustang quirked at eyebrow.

_No, it's all nothing. There is nothing here, nothing to be solved. Can we just get to the fighting…?_

At that moment, Irisa approached their table directly, Viktor in tow, and nodded to the group. They all turned their attention to her, and she said, "Excuse me Mr. Elric, vould you like to join General Alekseev to discuss ze terms for ze Vestern borderline?" Viktor said nothing, with both hands clasped behind his back. He caught the sheen from behind his glasses again, and realised he just had to know. He caught himself, and noticed Havoc staring a the General who was some metres away, waiting.

He decided he had to see it for himself, even if it meant nothing. He had never seen the same colour anywhere else, and if anything, it meant he might have Xerxesian ancestry too. In a moment of madness, he jumped up from his seat and launched himself at the man. With one swift move, he punched him sharply in the cheekbone and watched him slam to the ground. The table erupted immediately, coming forward to help Viktor and try to draw Alphonse back. They probably thought he was going mental or something, but he had just wanted to know. And recently, when he wanted to know something, he did whatever he could to learn it.

And learn he did.

On impact, the glasses were knocked askew and fell from his face, to reveal shining, golden eyes. He blinked, astounded at the assault, and was lifted onto his feet by an apologetic Mustang.

"I am so sorry, sir. I don't know what came over him, I can't apologise enough…" He had stopped, and was staring into those yellow eyes that held a flame that he had never forgotten. Soldiers were gathering round and Mustang tried to avert his eyes. Viktor hadn't spoke, Al realised, and wondered why that was. What was going on here? Irisa looked greatly troubled, and another man stepped in to retrieve the glasses and force them back on Viktor's cold face. He tried to excuse them, but on another wild and insane moment, Al grabbed the Irisa's arm roughly.

Before she could register a response, Viktor was back in his face again, a deadly and gleaming glare burning through those glasses and into his soul. "Don't touch her." He growled, and removed Al's fingers stiffly. The Drachman group departed, and Mustang rounded on him.

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed, and Fuery placed a comforting hand in his shoulder, to which Al ignored.

"I don't…I had to check." After all these years, he still couldn't fully become that cold soldier he wanted to be, and he couldn't help but hurt slightly from the painful reminder Viktor presented.

"You have to admit boss, gold eyes? And his voice?" Yes, that voice, the dangerous rumble of a short, fiery alchemist he missed greatly. It was too much of a coincidence, but too impossible to be true. He remembered the details of a bloody scene Fuery had once described for him, and shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry sir." He was 19 years old, still caught up in pain, misery and loneliness. Still missing his only brother, and still clinging on to anything that would prove his existence.

His efforts were for nothing, and Al abandoned any hope for salvation. He knew there was no escape, and no more reason for anything. Even his job meant nothing if all he did was fight a constant battle within himself. No, this was enough, and he couldn't take anymore. There was nothing left, and all he wanted now was to return to his duties as a Lieutenant Colonel and throw himself into the distraction of war.

In the midst of death and blood, he wouldn't have to pretend he wasn't dying inside.

_I gave you a piano_

_Play how you lived_

_Your lie of a life_

_Play how you lived_

_And play with your lies_

* * *

**I know people say this alot, but sorry for the late update D: Thanks again for the reviews, I just read through them and they are most encouraging ^.^ Also, thanks for the new face 0.- woop :D  
**

**To avoid annoying OC confusion: **

**Viktor = Ed!Pride**

**Irisa = Humility**

**Alekseev = Diligence/D**

**I know this chapter might be bad, but there's only 3 more chapters to go, and possibly an epilogue if it's appropriate or requested. As usual, if anything is confusing let me know! And review :D**


	13. I Gave You A Piano

_Chapter 12 - I Gave You A Piano, But You Failed To Play  
_

If there was ever a time for Pride to leave the Virtues, it was now.

He had miscalculated. He thought it impossible until Alphonse had acted against everything he had learnt about humans. How could that be? Was the Alchemist insane? It could be the only explanation- Pride had never been wrong before. He didn't forget either, he wouldn't allow himself to forget what happened. He was almost angry that these people who claim the friendship of Edward could allow him to die, and be transformed into a monster that would endure pain, negligence and psychological training. If there was one thing he wanted- it was answers. The face of Alphonse Elric was printed in his mind forever; the first face to find when he escaped.

But since the Ball, he hadn't been sent on any more missions. It was irritating. The incident made him more curious than ever before- he wanted to learn about everyone he had encountered, he wanted to see how they have changed, he wanted to find them, _talk_ to them, ask why they couldn't stop Ben from killing Edward.

But he couldn't. He was bound until a decision was reached regarding the Drachman-Amestrian conflict.

If Amestris gave in to Drachma's terms, he had a feeling his role would become void and Drachma would take over parts of Amestris. If they declined their terms, then a war would break out and he was sure that he would be involved somehow. Not knowing his purpose as Pride barely bothered him anymore, he had given up pondering the reason for his new existence, and concentrated on reminiscing his previous existence as Edward.

He diligently tailed behind Humility as she traipsed round the garden again, gazing through the flowers and into thoughts elsewhere. It seemed the two were alike in that way. When they returned to the manor finally, Ben was waiting for them, and he spoke when they neared the steps.

"You have another mission, Pride. Just a recon." His eyes suspiciously searched Pride's like they always did, ever since the Ball two weeks ago. It seemed his complete disregard of the whole encounter with Alphonse had led to more speculation than a physical reaction would have induced. He still believed that any reaction he could have taken would have caused suspicion anyway, so he resolutely ignored the searching eyes Ben gave him.

Pride nodded, and after he and Temperance gave him a briefing on the recon mission he left. It was a recon in Amestris, at Briggs City. They couldn't have given him a better task- he knew that that was where Alphonse, Mustang and the other people from his memory were. Were they doing this on purpose? A test? He didn't doubt that they didn't trust him, but if they trusted he wouldn't leave, then shouldn't that be enough?

Either way, he wasn't going to miss this chance. There was a whole life behind his years as Pride and he wouldn't ever forget them, not when Alphonse had so forcibly reminded him of the remnants he left behind after he died. He couldn't care, and he certainly shouldn't care, but Pride couldn't help wondering why it seemed that it was more than just his mind that wanted to return to Amestris.

So this was the time to leave the Virtues, it wasn't betrayal when he was so clearly not an equal among them. He had learned years before that they weren't the same. Besides, wasn't Pride a sin? What place could he possibly have with them?

When he left the Manor that evening, he made no farewells and he made no out of the ordinary gestures, and left a life he had never wanted for what he hoped was the last time. The train was a strangely inadequate experience, as if a large husking object was missing nearby. Each officer evoked random snaky remarks in his mind, and the countryside view reminded him of apple pies and wrenches. The snowy streets of Briggs City brought sounds of a stomping sword to his ears, and he couldn't understand why this 3rd of October had such sunny weather.

His recon was in the East of the city, and he had already forgotten which military building he was supposed to locate. He just knew that Alphonse and the others were staying in the barracks, in the Southern end of the city, so that's where he was headed. He passes broken houses and shops that had shut due to the war, the owners having had started anew in towns further South, away from the border for fear of being invaded again. Some houses had been partially destroyed from bombs, and more and more weapon and supply shops opened up every day. People who refused to leave their city but whose homes were already destroyed crowded the streets, and were denied stay at the inns in favour of the soldiers.

Pride had just passed a rowdy inn with broken windows and drunken occupants, when he was slammed into by a sea of blue cloth. He had assessed his surroundings as carefully as ever while he walked, so it was the fault of whoever knocked into him that they collided. When he had righted himself, he turned to face inquiring green eyes behind glasses, that couldn't help but widen as Pride stared.

Finally, after a long pause, "Oh…Viktor, right? I'm sorry about that, wasn't looking where I was going". He seemed insincere in his words, and Pride could almost see the scene from the Ball replaying behind his eyes.

Pride nodded once and made to walk away, trying not to give himself away by talking again too soon. He was going to find Alphonse first, and end this somehow. He still didn't know what to say. He surmised that he was probably sad Edward died, but Pride couldn't say the same. He shouldn't care.

"Wait." Hughes had grabbed a hold of his forearm, but didn't say anything. He just stared. Pride was averting his eyes, knowing that it was possible these people could recognise the gold like Alphonse did.

After a while, Hughes loosened his grip and seemed to drop his head, ashamed and- sad? Pride wondered what was going through his mind.

"Al's sorry about what he did by the way- at the dance I mean. You just…well you remind us of someone we used to know." He began to raise his head again. "The likeness is… uncanny." It was like he was having an internal war with himself, convincing himself of something, then doubting his thoughts the next minute. No doubt they were whether his alias 'Viktor' could really be Edward or not. Maybe he should just kill him before-

"Hey, do you mind if you let Al apologise? He didn't have a chance before." A strange fire had ignited in his eyes.

Pride considered. It _was_ what he had come here for after all, to find Alphonse. Suddenly Pride didn't know what he was going to say to him, and was at an unexpected loss as Hughes began to drag him away down a road to their left. He kept an unusually strong grip on his arm as if he was making sure he didn't get away, and it made him uncomfortable.

As soon as they neared the end of the road at a junction, an explosion went off nearby and pieces of shops and houses went flying and crashing onto the streets. The air was filled with smoke, and fires ignited simultaneously around the city. Pride's legs were pinned under an upturned broken car, and alchemic sparks continuously healed the otherwise permanent damage it was inflicting. He turned his eyes upwards and sighted multiple flying Drachman aircrafts. They were flying low and dropping bombs over the city.

The war had finally begun. Amestris must not have given in to Drachman terms, and Pride was stuck on enemy lines. Did Ben know this would happen?

* * *

Al filed away paper after paper, almost up to date with it all, which was a strange for anyone within Mustang's team. But then, they weren't constantly trying to distract themselves from thinking about anything personal. He cancelled all arrangements Mustang and the others had to tried to make unless it was strictly professional. He decided snowball fights on the inn's roof wasn't exactly 'strictly professional', and had therefore spent the day in his room.

Al hadn't been doing well alone. He felt no sense of purpose in his job, his life, his surroundings, or anything. It felt like his life was playing around him, and he was just going through the motions, not even listening or thinking about anything around him. He had been trying to close in on himself so much over these past years that he barely remembered them. It was as if everything from the time he got his body back was a dull blur, with blank gaps in between. He didn't care what those years had held, only that they were spent in misery and anxiety, both of which hadn't gone unnoticed by the others. He had stopped trying to hide it now.

A snowball fight had been Havoc's way of trying to cheer the group up, but Al had to agree with Mustang; they were just avoiding the chaos that was about to happen. It was so close they could almost hear sirens signalling gunfire at the back of their minds. Al, Mustang, Armstrong and some other State Alchemists had been called up to Briggs city to stay permanently, which eradicated all doubt of a war. It was the military's last attempt at defence before Drachma declared it.

But Drachma didn't declare war, they launched a surprise attack on the city. Al didn't even react at first, thinking that the war sirens were in his head, but he only had to glance out of his window to see orange flames eat away at a military jeep, then explode and destroy three buildings in one fiery heat wave. He jumped to his feet. It was now. He had to move, but images flashed through his mind of Winry, Granny, Izumi, Sig, Ed- stop. No time for regrets or doubts. He knows he has to move, and wills his legs out of his room and down the stairs.

The others had already assembled in the lobby, and Mustang's eyes were dark and solemn. He watched Al with uncertainty, like he thought he would break at any point. He exchanged a look Al didn't understand with Fuery, who nodded once and looked back to Al.

As he neared, Mustang said "Hughes is still missing, we can't go looking, so we'll just maintain our designated post and prepare infantry defences while our 3rd unit searches." Al just nodded, throat dry, thoroughly ashamed of his cowardice. How could 8 years in the military, technically 4, not make him stronger? Just more...plain?

They left in a military car, staring around at the damage the aircraft had caused. It had stopped, but sightings of a large number of approaching Drachman soldiers had been reported coming from the North. Al swallowed past a lump stuck in his throat, and reminded himself that this was what he needed; distraction, or even an end to it all. War was where he could find it.

Reaching their destination, the group jumped from the car and down into the pre-made trenches. Weaponry had already been brought, and Al set up barb wires and foot traps from their trench all the way out to no-man's-land, where he was told to return by the Amestrian sentries. On his return, he thought things he had been avoiding for a while. About Ed. He could feel an ending drawing closer, and didn't see the point in restraining anything anymore.

He thought about his brother's promise, the one to get his body back, the one that they'll do everything Al had written down in his book after his body returned. He also thought about his guilty tendencies to doubt his brother, the times when it seemed impossible, too tough, _all lies, all false hope. _He shook his blurry mind and quickened his slowed pace. He didn't hate his brother- he never could, _but I blamed him when you couldn't. I did what was necessary when you were too kind, too hopeful, too pathetic to do it yourself._

Al shook his head again, already back at the trenches. He carefully jumped the barb wire he set, and landed in the trenches next to Fuery, who was talking to Mustang.

"-Couldn't find him anywhere, he hasn't logged in to any military buildings at all."

Mustang just nodded slowly, eyes staring ahead blankly. He drew focus and nodded more sharply, "thank you, Sergeant."

Al managed a sympathetic look to Mustang while he contemplated the convenience of the war. The perfect escape at the perfect time, was this all his imaginings? Did he want a distraction this bad? He managed a small sad smile. His imagination couldn't be so brutal; images of torn and bloodied bodies played through his mind and he heaved a long sigh.

_We gave them the piano of speech_

_ to play how he lived,_

_ and we gave them the canvas of body _

_to paint how he dies._

_Edward is coming my friend, so don't do anything stupid while I'm gone._

* * *

He was in a difficult situation now, but he wasn't going to stop trying. After he moved the broken car off of him with the powers he gained as Pride, he checked if Hughes was still alive. A pulse beat against his fingers on his neck, and he sighed with annoyance. Now he had to kill him or move him. Seeing the fleeing citizens and running soldiers around him, he decided moving him would be the most logical solution at the precise time. It was nothing to do with the memories the man conjured in him, it can't be memories that made him hesitant. It couldn't be.

So he dragged him into a nearby empty building that was already open, and laid him on the sofa just inside. Unsure of what to do after, he stood awkwardly by his side. Soon there were Amestrian-sounding shouts coming from the thin walls around him, and the butt of a rifle came smashing through the opposite wall. Seeing no choice, he bolted from the room.

He wondered where the virtues were, would they be fighting? He still didn't know what they had wanted, but he didn't care. Right now, he wanted to know why someone who was supposed to be his 'brother' couldn't save him, when he had tried so hard to save_ him_. A fine line between emotions and logic blurred, and Pride struggled to see the difference in times like this.

* * *

Ka-chink. Click. BANG.

Ka-chink. Click. BANG.

Al reloaded for the umpteenth time, and brought down soldier after soldier ahead. His arms didn't ache, he vision didn't cloud, his aim didn't waver and his breathing wasn't ragged. Shouts echoes mindlessly around him, his mind picking out the voices that called him specifically. In his focussed state, nothing else mattered but the gun in his hands and the soldiers crossing into his line of fire.

They hadn't breached defences yet, but more were still flooding forward. Every time one died, another two replaced them, and Al could see more Amestrians dying by the second. He didn't flinch from these facts, he carried on, a small smile playing on his lips. Fuery gave an unnecessary curt nod of encouragement when their eyes met, and they both reloaded, aimed, and fired.

After 15 more minutes of hopeless shooting, a call was heard among the chaos, shouting Mustang's name. A communication pack bobbed along the muddy tracks with a soldier pinned underneath, he held a phone out in front. Mustang reached towards him and took the phone, his eyes widening as he listened. He nodded, but remembered himself and spoke a few short words down the phone.

When he hung up he quickly turned to Al and shouted through the din; "Al, Fuery, Hughes has been sighted in a building near the Southern warehouse district." He produced a map and pointed, shaky. "Go find him, assess his condition, then call and tell me whether he's fit for fighting or not." Something in his eyes hoped for the latter, so he could be safer in hospital.

Al nodded, reluctant to leave the mayhem. He was only delaying the inevitable. Then he ran as low as he could back to the outskirts and then through the city by car. Fuery turned a concerned eye his way from the passenger seat.

"Al, I think you should take a break, you're only 19 and-"

"Fuery, there are younger soldiers than me here", he said, then added, "I'm fine." But the look he gave Fuery clearly screamed how utterly wrong he was. _But you will be soon, I promise, and I'm not a liar._

Fuery shook his head roughly. "No, you're not Al. I don't think you see it, but there is something…wrong with you." His eyes filled with caution and sympathy, but determined nonetheless.

"What?" He said roughly.

"You're depressed, anxious and detached. You barely talk to us, or anyone, and it's like you've just disappeared and left a body behind."

"So? I've had a lot to do; a promotion, new responsibilities, dealing with Ed not being here." he replied.

"So then take a break, help out in the medical tent and-"

"And what, die a little bit later?"

"You just need to figure out some things. Like what you've been doing with your life, and what you plan to do."

"In a time like _now_? We're at war!" He yelled, taking his eyes off the road for a split second.

"I know, but in your current condition, I don't think you should be fighting at all." Fuery said, trying to build confidence from his belief.

The car skidded to a halt a their destination, and Al left the car as soon as he could. "What condition?"

"You don't remember? We had a check up last week. Did you take the anti-depressants? You told Dr. Marton that you would make sure you got more sleep, too." Fuery said, as they searched along the street to the appropriate address, as Al had been a little off.

"_What_ are you talking about?" He demanded, irritation growing steadily.

"After you solved the document mess ups and false deliveries three years ago you went on anti-depressants. Come on Al there were loads of meetings, this isn't funny."

Al stopped, confused. He did remember the missing resources and continued military mess-ups, but he certainly didn't remember them being fixed, especially not by him. Did he really not pay attention that much?

"I thought as much. I'm going to need to talk to Mustang" Fuery muttered then sighed, looking up at Al. _Well, this is a problem indeed. Don't try too hard, or better yet, let me deal with it…_

He sighed himself, and sunk in on his misery and pain, willing to escape it all. He found the familiar blankness that he always found, and disappeared into it.

* * *

Pride couldn't help but get slightly annoyed at the goose chase. One minute Alphonse was here, next minute he was somewhere else. He was ducking under some military supplies heading south, on the back of a military truck. The truck swerved slightly and he jumped off in the momentum. He hadn't gone too far north, so the journey back wasn't so long. But when he entered the room he had abandoned Hughes in, nobody was there, just heavy bloodstains on the sofa. He was too late, then.

Leaving the house, he wandered a few uncertain steps in a random direction, at a loss. He always had his purpose given to him by the Virtues, he barely had his own will. It only lasted so long until he was out of ideas, which was now. Luckily, a bright gold caught his attention, the blonde head of a boy briskly walking. He was uncertain and in a rush, and soon he had disappeared around a corner on the far side of the street. Pride followed instantly, a deep lurching inside him told him that it was Alphonse, and he struggled not to allow it to break out.

Following him, he reached the open door of the warehouse and spotted the figure inside, gathering some equipment together to leave. He didn't care that Hughes was probably safe at a medical tent now, he didn't care if he knew Pride would find Al, it only mattered that he was here inside a deserted room that had a lock. He would just have to finish this quickly. Besides, there was a war going on, who would check a derelict building on the other side of the city? He smirked and slipped inside, then pulled the door closed behind him with a snap. Alphonse's head shot up.

Before he could speak, Pride rose a hand to silence him. Removing his glasses, he clapped and returned his hair to normal, and Al kept his mouth jammed shut and stared, wary.

Pride looked into scared gold eyes, shades darker than his own, and said, "It looks like we have a lot to catch up on, brother. How about you fill me in?"

_I gave you a canvas_

_Paint how you died_

_Your blood filled mess of a death_

_Paint how you died_

_And paint with your blood_

* * *

**Almost finished, it seems :D I practically already know what I'll be writing next time, so the updates should be quick. But then I have a few exams left until the summer holidays, so it could be a while still :/ Might get my money back for prom, I really don't want to wear a dress D:**

**Well anyway, thanks to the reviewers, I really appreciate the feedback. Could do with some critique perhaps? I know it needs improving, but I need to know exactly why so my next fics wont have the same mistakes. So review, if you have time! **

**I also would really like to know what your expectations for the ending are. I have my own ending, but it's interesting to hear some opinions if I forget something. XD **


	14. I Gave You A Canvas

_Chapter 13 - I Gave You a Canvas, But You Failed to Paint_

There was gold, a lot of gold. But then there was sweltering black followed by blazing and unforgiving red, before his fingers were prised apart by cold hands, and Al looked into the eyes of a dead man.

"Who the hell are you?" Al whispers, his breath fanning across a cold mask he couldn't, and wouldn't, recognise.

"I told you, brother-" fingers clenched hard again and the man was cut off. How dare he, how _dare_ he-

"Don't. Call. Me. _Brother!_" His eyes flashed dangerously, and all the rage and pain threatened to boil and burst forth in greater velocity than ever before. The agony of restraint caused more harm than he could describe, but before Al could act upon anything, the man spoke again.

"_I gave you a piano…_

…_play how you lived…"_

The heavy Drachman accent made his mind buzz with hate, and it left a sour and hot taste in his mouth. He narrowed his eyes in confusion and impatience, "what are you talking about…?"

But a deep feeling resonated within the Lieutenant Colonel, and discomfort shook him until his grip loosened. Enough of this. He backed off of him from against the wall, but their golden eyes never broke contact. Al bit his lip, then pulled his gun from it's holster on his belt. Crashes resonated around them, and they could hear sirens, aircrafts, gunfire, and blood-curdling screams that couldn't deter either soldier from their duty here tonight. Neither gave in to distraction, and neither moved an inch from their positions while Al held up his 10mm, poised in perfect aim, and fired.

The bullet took it's place deep within the other man's chest, and slowly, he collapsed onto his knees holding his wound. Blood blossomed upon the clothing, but quickly stopped when an unnatural red spark flashed about his front. In one slow surreal moment, he removed his hand and stood straight again, their eyes never breaking contact once.

"What are you?" Another whisper escaped him. This can't be happening. He didn't understand, and he didn't want to. He was just so incredibly tired. Tired of living. But he asked regardless because he couldn't help himself feeling that lost sense of hope, border lining and surrounded by hatred.

_Then let me handle things, like before…_

He mind clouded, but he shook his head, visibly struggling. **"**_**There is something…wrong with you"**_

"Tell me, brother. What happened to Hughes?" The other man spoke again, his voice emulating _him_ perfectly.

His lip curled at the word brother, but he stopped. What did happen to Hughes? He thought back, and drew up nothing. Words died on his lips, and his mouth was left open in confusion.

"I expect the military will find him wherever you've hid him." Al replied, but he didn't care, not even a bit. Some part of him was scared of this fact, but it was lost amidst the chaos within him.

"Me? Hmm…I don't think you quite remember." He smiled a disturbing grin and coldness seemed to seep out of Al's very bones, until he actually thought he could see a darkness permeating his uniform. Glancing at the man and back again, it had disappeared, and he shook his head another time.

"Just tell me who- _what_, you are." Al said resignedly. He felt anger, betrayal, confusion and jubilance all at once. But it kept getting lost under a mist that told him that he just didn't care anymore, he was tired and had already given up on such feelings a while ago. They battled within in him, neither side losing ground but neither gaining, and it hurt just to be.

_But it doesn't have to, remember? I'm not the one who lies, here…Take a look at your brother, aren't you glad he's back?_

"_**You don't remember? We had a check up last week…"**_

He didn't understand, and he was sick of the feeling. He was fading in and out, and Edwa- the man, wavered before him. His vision blurred, and he was tempted to give in and let it go. He couldn't keep putting up a battle for years on end.

He just can't do it alone.

* * *

Pride hadn't known what to say, all he knew what that he wanted to see the boy hurt for what he had unknowingly put him through. That was until it dawned on him that Al was hurting enough already. Al kept shaking his head, his eyes dull and his posture weary. He looked so tired and so defeated that another unrecognised feeling spurred within Pride again, and he couldn't say much else.

He stood in silence while the soldier struggled, his head hanging. He slowly looked up, eyes travelling to Pride's face, and smiled. Pride had never genuinely smiled, but he had reflected a human smile adequately enough to understand that Al's face wasn't expressing warmth or happiness.

Rather a coldness similar to his own.

He watched as Alphonse's smile turned into a sneer, and he drew nearer towards him. "Well brother, it really has been a while. nine years, isn't it? But you never came back…I was alone for a long time, brother, and you said we wouldn't be apart. I waited a long time, too long, ever since we tried to bring back our mother I've waited."

He frowned and stepped backwards. He hadn't been expecting this, something in Al seemed to have drastically changed from only a few moments ago. And did he say he'd been waiting since their failed transmutation? But he had only left four years ago…But then, he had suspected something was different.

Al stopped, his smile disappearing to be replaced by a hard and infuriated stare. "Why didn't you come back? Why didn't they bring you to me?" He was clenching his fists, his eyes wide and manic. He couldn't come back, why didn't _who_ bring him to Al?

"What happened to you?" He muttered. He wasn't sure what to do now.

Al tilted his head. "You left, that's what. While I was stuck waiting at the gate, you were off having adventures and living your life without a single care. Then you decided to bring me back, just when I decided to bring _you_ back." He snarled again, an image so odd and out of place to the gentle Alphonse he remembered. A painful resistance at Al's words built in Pride's chest, but he pushed it down.

More shouts echoed outside, and crashes of houses signalled the chaos and demolition of the city. Pride fleetingly wondered if the warehouse would be standing for much longer, when Al spoke again.

"But they messed up, they didn't realize that I'd returned." He looked angry, then smiled that dead smile again, and said,

"…_I gave you a canvas,_

_Paint how you died…_

…that's what I told them."

Pride nodded, "I know, I can still hear it." Now he was the one whispering, echoes of the mantra replaying through his mind. All he didn't know was their meaning, and why they would be in his mind whenever he had let his guard drop in the past. It chanted in his mind softly, but gradually growing louder and louder as the years progressed.

It was too silent, both young men standing in their chaotic thoughts and listening to the havoc around them, screams filtering through the crashes. Al had closed his eyes with a passive expression, and Pride found himself staring. He hadn't expected this, but now he wanted answers as to what Al had been talking about. Was he tied to the Virtues somehow? But that can't be possible.

"So time to finish this." Al said suddenly, eyes open again. "You brought me back too late, and that's why you're the abomination you are, _Pride_." He spat the last word, as if it disgusted him. Al's face was unrecognisable as the loving boy he had in his memories. But then, Pride was nothing like Ed ever was. Until recently.

Before Pride could answer, Al spoke again, nearing the end of his patience, "There's no room for you here anymore, Pride, the Sins have had their time." As he finished his sentence, a shuffling rustled around the warehouse, and metal scraped against metal as whole sheets shifted aside. From corners and crevices, 7 figures emerged, 7 homunculi, 7 Virtues.

They were mostly stoic and hid their thoughts well, but Pride had already been trained in this by Temperance. He could only guess that they hadn't planned on turning on him, so they couldn't hide their intentions well enough. Humility was the only one with any trace of doubt on her face. With a last look to his younger brother, he allowed himself a moment of tension before the emotional release he was preparing himself for. There was no reason to act like anything anymore; no more pretences, lies, acts, orders or hiding the emotions he knew were stirring in him. Those emotions he knew belonged to Edward Elric, and Pride's time was almost over.

Pride stood tall and kept his chin up. He supposed he owed Edward some sort of body to come back to, and decided he would fight. His clothes felt odd on him, so neat and formal, so obedient. Too obedient. Edward had no care for rules or oppressive authority, and Pride wanted to do him justice. From then on he would fight for Edward, for that hot headed personality clawing it's way out of him.

Al said, "A Sin like you stands no chance, Alchemist or not."

He tilted his head in a cocky manner, a hand on his hip. He grinned, and drawled in perfect Amestrian, "I'm not an ordinary Alchemist". He clapped his hands and grabbed a nearby pipe, transmuting it into a very familiar sword as he back flipped out of the Virtues' reach. He landed smoothly, legs apart and smirked as he rejoiced in Edward's emotions, but not allowing his mind to give in to him just yet.

Chase and Temperance were nearest him, and he could see Ben and D drawing closer behind them. Al stood in the distance, eyes cold and distant, watching with no expression at all. Pride gripped the cold one-handed sword in his hands, and jumped to the right, landing on a pile of discarded machinery, and lunged forwards at Temperance. He struck his shoulder but it had little effect, he was a well built and turned to catch the sword with his own hands, immobilising him. He ducked as Ben took at swipe with his fists, and back flipped just as the others had arrived to join the fight.

Alchemy was his answer now; he would have to trap them so he could deal with Al. He was nearing the back of the long warehouse, and allowed himself to be backed into a corner of machines. Cascades of car seats, doors and other parts landed around him and he alchemised a makeshift shield.

He called out, switching back to his ordinary Drachman, "So Al was who you were working for, then." He already knew the answer, but he wanted to see their reaction. He wanted to understand.

Slipping behind two upturned cars and temporarily out of sight, he watched Temperance walked down aisles of rubbish casually, confidently. Chase was following behind, eyes searching the rubbish while the others scattered to look. Temperance was the one who answered, "Of course, you were too busy to notice. Did you never question why you were the only Sin among Virtues? I'll admit, your oblivious charade had us convinced until now, but there was no way you couldn't hear his chant, too…"

Chant? Of course, it was still ringing in his ears. But he still didn't see how this added up. What has that have to do with Al? With the Virtues? With _him_?

Temperance and Chase had walked round a rusted van, and straight into a dead end. Pride took his chance and slipped out from his hiding place as silently as possible, and clapped his hand and gripped the nearest metal he could find. It travelled swiftly, and a 5 metre radius of metal around the two Virtues swelled up and came crushing down, compacting and melding. When it was finished, it was a quarter it's previous size, with Temperance and Chase crushed beyond recognition within.

The noise had alerted the others to his exact location, and before he could get away a knife flashed past his face, slicing open his cheek. He cursed his distracted mind, and clutched his fresh wound as he climbed a table and the wall railings, until he was on the suspensions above. He looked up to find Patience, and the last Virtue who he had never met, but knew must be Charity. She was just as cold as the others, and was advancing quickly with Patience close behind.

He moved round the metal beams, quickly assessing the situation so as to corner them as effectively as he did before. He was nearing a window, and before he could think of a reason why, he acted out as brash as Ed felt like, and just smashed the glass with his hand. He turned back to the others, and stretched out his power if darkness from the shadows, the black hands of Pride's power grappling at their legs. It cut them deep and cracked the metal beams beneath them, causing it to creak ominously.

Pride back onto the window ledge, and spotted below the bloodied but alive bodies of Chase and Temperance extracting themselves from the metal with the help of the others. So, Virtues work together like the Sins never did. He noticed Al watching him and waiting for him to be beaten down, probably at his feet. Crashes resonated through the warehouse and through the window, and Pride turned to assess the broken city.

Fires illuminated the sky in red, as if the blood of the many who died in that night could somehow be reflected in the sky. Smoke billowed upwards, houses lay demolished, and both Amestrian and Drachman military trucks roamed the streets for survivors. More and more were filling the streets, and the aircraft had stopped long ago. The crashes they had been hearing were houses collapsing under the brittle and burning wood. It seemed the battle was waning, and most troops were retreating or regaining lost soldiers. The fire was upon them, eating away at the building around them and burning fiercely on the ground of the building he stood in.

"You were the only Sin left, Pride. The only sin I had in them." Pride spun around. The beams had broken and the warehouse below was a mess of flames and metal, and before him stood Alphonse, upon a pillar of alchemised debris of broken metal and wood. His uniform was blackened and frayed, his face red and scratched. But he was alive and whole.

"The only sin in you?" He muttered, images of Father flashed though his mind, talking about the homunculi.

Al nodded, "I was so proud that I could finally achieve something after all those years stuck at the gate, waiting. Finally something I could use passed through the gate, and I made sure I was there. I took them and recreated them from my virtues, leaving me hollow."

His eyes widened. They were made from Al? "But that was just a body…"

"It was more than that. I was still a part of him, me. I could still take everything I had left and put them into those you sent to me." He was murmuring now, a melancholy stare misting his eyes over, still so different to Al…perhaps this was who was waiting at the gate, and the other Al was the soul Edward had known for those years in a suit of armour.

"You don't understand what that did to me, Pride." He was looking directly at Pride now, fire building upwards towards them. He could feel the heat emanating and burning his face with it's intensity, causing Al's face to glow. But he couldn't move, there was no need to. Al was right here and there was nothing else but him for Pride, anyway.

"…To be left without any virtue. But I sent them for you…to bring you back to me" Al continued, undaunted by the fires crackling their way towards his body. The warehouse was diminishing, lower parts of walls were already gone and other parts falling and cracking apart.

Edward was straining within him now, stronger than ever before, and he didn't think he could hold out much longer. But what for, anyway? He was Pride, Al's pride. If he was a part of Al, then…he should return to Al.

He stepped across from the window, testing the weight of the pillar beneath him. He stood with Al, and placed a hand on his shoulder as his eyes travelled up to his Pride's face. Al looked conflicted, two parts straining within him, just like Pride. Why should either be holding out? It was only hurting them.

He had no regrets, nothing to lose. After all, he was a part of Al, his Pride, his insanity at being left alone for years on end. He had no purpose left than to rejoin him and fix his broken mind, whole at last since he had failed human transmutation...yes he had been waiting for a long time, indeed.

"Let's not keep these brothers apart for much longer, Alphonse." He murmured close to him, the noise of the fire drowned out around them, as one of two souls joined another.

Alphonse looked up at him, his eyes shining and afraid. The remaining soul couldn't tell what was happening or where he was, but a few seconds later, Al let out a sob, "Brother…I missed you".

Edward smiled, and had enough time to reply quietly, "I missed you too Al. I wont leave again, I promise", before the warehouse gave in and caved beneath itself, crushing down ruthlessly upon the two tear-stained brothers, holding on to one another.

Reunited at last.

* * *

**I'm semi-proud of this, parts I liked and didn't like. But then that would have happened no matter what I did. This would be the last chapter by the way, and I'm not sure whether to add an epilogue or not, because I don't want to kill it but I'm fairly certain it needs one. **

**Either way, if it is the end for you, review on the chapter and the story as a whole, as it's the first completed story I have ever written (on fanfiction or not T.T), so it's somewhat of an accomplishment for me and I want to know what you think an' all. **

**If it isn't the end for you, tell me what you think of the chapter anyway and tell me whether an epilogue is needed. I'll leave the story as In Progress for now, though.**

**Also sorry for the way things turned out. But it was necessary, right? It was, man, it was. And thanks to the reviewers too, I thought my military Al was a bit of a failure so thanks for that :D  
**


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